The Road to Forgiveness
by Teeheehee123
Summary: Second instalment of the 'When Two Worlds Collide' series. The longest journey always starts with the first step and it is not only Horatio who must learn that forgiveness comes in many forms.
1. Chapter 1

Stepping out of the shower, he gave himself a long look in the mirror, wiping the condensation away with his right hand. He sighed as he looked down at his arms and chest that still bore the scars of his ordeal at the hands of the sadistic Malucci's.

He felt a shudder go through him as his mind cast back to those horrific few days that he was at the mercy of those monsters. Truth be told, he didn't really remember much past being taken onto the boat, the next memory he had was of waking up in a hospital room with a teary Calleigh looking down at him.

_Calleigh, _he thought, with a sense of regret. He'd put her through so much these last few months and had no idea why she'd stuck by him like she had. He'd been scared, angry and bitter at his inability to deal with his emotional and physical needs and his anger had found a target in her.

Each time he tried to push her away she would tighten her grip on him and refuse to let him go. It frustrated him that she couldn't see how pathetic he was, how the Malucci's had systematically broken him until he was nothing but the shell of the man he used to be. He remembered with a sense of shame how he had cried like a small child as he heard the sound of Kyle being shot. It was only later, whilst he was lying in that hospital bed, that he learned that the whole thing was just another of Danny's sick games designed to torment him.

And it had tormented him; even now he woke in a sweat after dreaming that Kyle had been brutally slain, just like Marisol had, and all because of him. His time being held prisoner had taught him that he would always place the people he loved in danger, they would be made targets for no other reason than that they were close to him.

He needed to distance himself from all of them; it seemed as if his life was coming full-circle as he once more contemplated a life of solitude, away from the people he had an emotional connection with. He had tried to outrun his past once before and failed miserably.

He sighed as he grabbed the hand towel and began drying his freshly-washed hair, wincing slightly as his finger ran over the inch-long scar on the back of his head. The wound had long since healed but the hair surrounding the thin line would never grow back and served as yet another reminder of how he had failed once again.

He shook the negative thoughts away as he began towelling his chest and arms, stopping as his hand ran over the long scar on his left forearm. The cast had been taken off several weeks ago but the damaged bones that had been plated still gave him a dull aching pain from time to time. He flexed the now-healed fingers of his left hand and shook the appendage lightly, trying to make the tingling sensation running through it dissipate.

He took another look at himself in the mirror as he began brushing his teeth, he could still feel the several veneers he'd had put in, they still felt odd and out of place in his mouth but served to make him look much less horrific than when he'd finally regained consciousness almost four months ago.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami: 14 weeks ago: **

Having been released from Alexx's tender care the day before, Calleigh approached Horatio's side and lowered herself into the chair by his hospital bed. Alexx had warned her to take it easy and to rest to allow her own body to recover after the strain she had put it through in her panic to find Horatio. That was easier said than done and she had only lasted a little over 24 hours before she called Eric and begged him to come and pick her up and drive her to the hospital.

She'd brought a trashy romance novel to read with her and had the presence of mind to bring rations along too so that she could stay by the redhead's side in case he woke. Alexx had told her that Horatio was doing as well as could be expected and that the surgery had gone as well as they could have hoped yesterday. All they could do now was sit back and wait.

She smiled at the nurses who entered the room as they smiled softly at her and made encouraging noises about Horatio's progress. The room was silent except for the regular beeping of the monitors and the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. It eased her worry a little to hear the monotonous beeping of the machines monitoring the redhead's condition, it was far stronger and more rhythmical than it had been since he'd been brought in. She found the noise quite relaxing and felt her eyes getting heavier as she relaxed further into the chair she was sitting on.

"Calleigh, I thought I told you to go home and rest," Alexx admonished as she made her way into the room, checking the readings on the monitors and noting something on the chart at the end of the bed.

She felt her cheeks flame, embarrassed to be caught napping by her friend.

"Sorry, I must have dropped off," she said as she picked her book up off the floor and placed it on the bed by Horatio's unmoving hand.

"This isn't what I meant by rest, sugar."

"I know, but I needed to see him. All I've been doing is sitting here, I promise."

She gave Alexx her most sincere smile and the kindly doctor was unable to stop her own face from mirroring that of her friend.

"How's he doing, Alexx, really?"

The doctor walked to the head of the bed and placed a hand on the redhead's forehead, stroking the hair on his head tenderly as if he were her child.

"He gave us a few scares, but he came through the surgery. I would like to think that he's got through the worst of it now but there are still a number of complications that could arise."

She smiled at Calleigh as she placed a gentle, loving kiss on the unconscious man's head.

"I know how tough and stubborn Horatio can be, he's got a strong constitution and I think that's what'll sway it for him. I'm certainly more hopeful about his prognosis than I was when he came in."

Their eyes met over the bed, neither woman needed to put into words the horrific sight they had seen that day. It was an image that would last with all of them forever.

It was a few hours later when Horatio had finally started showing signs of waking as Calleigh was disturbed from her reading by a low groaning noise emanating from the bed. She placed the book down on the chair as she stood up and leaned over the bed, encouraging the unconscious man to open his eyes.

She'd lost track of time as she watched him groan and move several times before finally managing to open his eyes. The eyelids were barely open and the eyes behind them were glassy with pain and confusion and yet she had never been so glad to see him as she had right then.

"Hello, handsome," she crooned as she brushed the hair from his forehead.

She watched as he blinked a couple of times and reached out to take hold of his right hand, giving a light squeeze when she found it.

His eyes opened and closed a couple of times and she could see them rolling up into his head as he tried to keep them open. After a few minutes of battling his own body he finally seemed to be gaining some awareness of his surroundings.

With awareness came shock, as his brain began processing the images from his eyes he screwed them tightly shut as if in pain as the brightness of the artificial light in the room hit him. He gasped in pain and shock as the light assaulted his deprived senses.

Sensing his distress, Calleigh squeezed his hand tighter as she tried to figure out what was wrong.

"What is it, Horatio? Are you in pain?" she asked as she lent closer to his face.

He struggled to form the words, muffled as they were by the oxygen mask on his face.

"The…lights…..turn them off," he gasped as he kept his eyes tightly shut.

She did as he asked without question, before returning to his side, letting out a sigh of relief as she saw him physically relax in the darkened room. Her senses were now on high alert, realising that something was seriously wrong with her beloved redhead.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, followed or added this story to their 'favourites' list. Your continued support is much appreciated.**

**Please be aware that some readers may find parts of this chapter upsetting to read due to the subject matter.**

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

He made his way back to the bedroom; a small smile crossed his face as he saw the clothes that Calleigh had left out for him. She had laid out his favourite black suit and a dark navy blue shirt.

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his pants on, doing up the zip and tightening the belt around his waist. He frowned as he noticed that he was able to fasten his belt tighter than he could before his ordeal.

He looked down once more at his scarred abdomen and realised that he probably had lost weight in the last few months. It wasn't that he wasn't hungry, because he was, he just couldn't seem to stomach eating very much recently. If he were being honest with himself, he couldn't seem to stomach much of anything at all.

Grabbing his shirt, he pulled it on and winced as his actions caused his ribs to protest at his hasty movement. He ignored the pain as he did the buttons up quickly, shaking the stiffness out of his left hand after tucking his shirt into his pants.

He silently went about putting his socks and shoes on before realising that he wasn't wearing his watch. Walking over to the bedside cabinet, he found it sitting next to his phone. He placed the watch on his wrist and tightened the strap before picking up his cell phone.

He must have missed a call whilst he was in the shower, dialling his voicemail; he listened to the message that had been left.

_"Hey, Dad. It's me, Kyle. I know today is your first day back at the lab; I just wanted to call you and let you know that I'm thinking about you. I'll try to call you later tonight and you can tell me all about it. I love you, Dad."_

He terminated the message, closed the phone quietly and sat on the edge of the bed as he thought about how close he had come to losing his son. The memories of his time at the hands of his captors still fresh in his mind, even now.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 14 weeks ago:**

"Hey, Alexx. Everything ok with H?" Eric asked as he strolled through the ICU waiting area, he frowned as he saw the look on her face.

"He's doing as well as can be expected," she replied vaguely, realising that this had become her stock response over the last few days.

He saw through her pale attempts to cover the truth, he moved towards her and placed a hand on her arm.

"Tell me what's wrong, Alexx."

The doctor wiped the tears from her eyes as she motioned for Eric to sit down next to her, gripping the clipboard in her hands as she tried to find the right words.

"Horatio woke up earlier," she began as she kept her gaze focused on the clipboard.

"That's good news, right?"

"He was still pretty dazed when he came to but his reaction took all of us by surprise."

She risked a glance up at Eric who impatiently motioned for her to continue.

"He became quite distressed as his eyes got used to the room. He couldn't bear how bright the light was, he kept shouting for us to turn them off."

"Is that unusual?"

"We have a couple of ex-military doctors here; they say it's a common reaction for people who've been tortured using sensory deprivation."

Eric felt the air rush out of his body at the doctor's words, he felt utterly deflated that his brother-in-law had been subjected to such horrific treatment and it made him feel all the worse that they had not been able to protect him from it.

"Will it get better?" he asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"His eyes are extremely sensitive to any kind of light source at the moment, so we've transferred him to a room where the lights can be dimmed. We hope the physical photosensitivity will ease as his eyes gradually become used to the light in the room when we increase it."

"And what if it doesn't?"

"If it doesn't….Horatio will be looking at an early retirement from the MDPD, I'm afraid."

She gave her friend a few moments to assimilate the information before continuing.

"Due to the nature of Horatio's ordeal we've run a SAFE kit…"

Eric couldn't believe what he was hearing, he knew that Horatio had been subjected to a great deal of physical brutalisation but surely the Malucci's would not have gone so far as to sexually assault him.

"Please….please tell me that it came back negative," he pleaded as he looked her directly in the eyes.

Wiping the tears away from her face she cupped Eric's head gently as she spoke to him.

"I carried it out myself; I wasn't going to let anyone else touch my baby boy. There were no signs of any sexual assault."

He let out a breath that he didn't even realise he'd been holding.

"Thank God for that," he muttered as he ran a shaky hand over his face.

"Can I go and see him?"

"Sure you can, sugar. He's still in and out of consciousness; I'm here all night if you need me."

He pulled her into a hug before making his way to Horatio's room, his eyes widening as he saw the state of his close friend and colleague.

He shut the door and made his way further into the dimly lit room, the only light was that of the monitors as they beeped and flashed at regular intervals. He sat down heavily in the chair and took hold of the limp hand of his brother-in-law, relieved to find it warmer than it had been on the boat.

His eyes travelled down the exposed portions of the redhead's body, noting the bruising and bandages that covered his arms and chest. He couldn't help but hear the faint wheezing as Horatio's chest rose and fell as he breathed.

He squeezed the other man's hand but got nothing in response and so he settled back in the chair, ready to stand watch over his fallen friend, determined to protect him from anyone who meant him harm.

He was glad to be woken from the particularly unpleasant dream that he was having, noticing that Horatio had begun groaning and moving restlessly. He gripped the hand tighter and tried to coax the man into waking.

It took an inordinate amount of time, but eventually the auburn eyelashes flickered open as Horatio finally opened his eyes and managed to keep them open.

Eric leant over him, smiling.

"Hey man, how you doing?"

A pair of faded blue eyes looked at him quizzically as the injured man struggled to understand what he'd been asked.

He let out a few wheezing breaths before trying to speak.

"Eric?" he gasped as he tried to lift his injured arm, alarmed to find that he couldn't.

"Yeah, it's me. We've been worried about you, you know."

Horatio's head rolled listlessly from side to side before his eyes shot wide open, his grip on Eric's hand increasing considerably.

"Oh God," he let out in a breathy whisper.

Sensing his friend's distress, Eric leant over and hit the call button above the bed, all the while talking to the agitated redhead.

The cloudy blue eyes bore into him as Horatio pinned him with a panicked stare, trying his best to get up and out of the bed and groaning in pain as his injuries prevented him from moving.

"They killed him, Eric," Horatio gasped as tears sprang to his eyes.

He didn't understand what Horatio was talking about.

"Killed who, H?"

The head shook again as the heart monitor relayed the redhead's distress.

"They killed my son, they killed Kyle."

The comment took Eric by surprise, his grip loosening slightly on Horatio's hand as he struggled to process the other man's words.

He shook his head as if in a daze.

"He's fine, Horatio, I promise you. He's at Calleigh's resting."

"No, he's dead!" the redhead insisted. "I heard them shoot him. Oh God, they killed my boy….."

He gripped the hand tighter again as two nurses, followed by Alexx came rushing into the room.

"He's safe, I promise you."

He felt powerless to help his friend as he refused to believe what he was being told.

"He's dead!" Horatio shouted, as loud as his weakened body would allow him to.

Any further words were cut off by the incessant squealing of the monitors as his body shook uncontrollably as he coughed and fought for breath.

All of them jumped back in shock as Horatio freed his right hand from Eric's grip and used it to push a nurse roughly away from him. It was all that Alexx needed to witness to confirm that she was about to make the correct decision.

Grabbing a syringe she quickly injected the contents into her dear friend's IV line and watched sadly as the narcotic had the desired effect on his already weakened body. She felt the tears escaping from her own eyes as Horatio's struggles gradually lessened, his sad and dazed blue eyes staring up at her, brimming with tears.

"They killed him," he mumbled as his eyes began to close.

She kissed him fervently on his forehead as he began weeping quietly, the fight vanishing from him as the drugs took their toll on his abused body.

"Just sleep, baby. It'll all be ok, I promise you."

Eric looked on as the doctor held and crooned Horatio back to sleep, holding him until she was certain that he would not wake again for some time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Present day. Miami:**

He was disturbed from his thoughts by a soft knock at the door; he gave Calleigh a small smile as she entered the room and sat down next to him.

"I made coffee and bagels for breakfast, you interested?" she teased as she placed a hand on his thigh.

He kept his head bent down but twisted his neck to look at her and shyly smile.

"Sounds good," he replied, trying to inject an enthusiasm into his voice that he didn't feel.

She could sense his hesitation, leaning over; she placed a light kiss on his temple.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

Returning his gaze to the floor, he nodded.

They both sat in the bedroom for a number of minutes, neither speaking until the silence was broken.

"Kyle called this morning, he wanted to wish me luck for today," Horatio said quietly as he got up from the bed, grabbing his jacket as he left the room.

She watched him go, seeing the slump of his shoulders as he walked away, a sight that had become all too familiar recently.

It had been four weeks since Kyle had left for his new posting at Camp Blanding; he had been reluctant to leave his father while he was still recovering but had used up all of his personal leave in the weeks previous.

At least the posting was State-side and not back out in Afghanistan, it seemed to help Horatio to know that his son would not be in immediate danger although it was clear to see that the events of his time at the hands of the Malucci's had served to make the redhead much more cautious and wary when it came to his son's safety.

The first few days after Kyle had left had been the worst, she thought back on the nights when Horatio would wake up screaming after having yet another nightmare about his son being killed in front of him. He had retreated in on himself during those dark few days, refusing to eat or talk to anyone, spending most of his time sleeping or screaming the house down.

As with everything, eventually the pain and the nightmares lessened as Horatio became used to not seeing Kyle every day. It made Calleigh smile to think of how the young man had doted on and cared for his father with such gentleness in the first few weeks after his rescue. The mannerisms reminded her so much of Horatio, Kyle was most definitely his father's son.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 14 weeks ago:**

Kyle sat by his father's bedside and watched him sleep, only moving out of the way when a nurse came in to reposition the sleeping man's pillows and instructing him to cough. He could hear the wet sounds of fluid in his father's lungs as he breathed noisily.

He'd got up early this morning and made his own way to the hospital, he left Calleigh a note to tell her where he would be so that she wouldn't panic and send another search party out after him.

He'd met Eric in the waiting area and frowned as he took in the Cuban's haggard appearance. It shocked him when Eric told him what had happened to his father, how could the thugs that took him sink so low as to make him believe that he was dead?

And so he had sent Eric home, commanding him to go home and rest, assuring him that he would stay with his father and do whatever it took to convince the other man that he was still alive.

He watched as his father began groaning, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to lift the hand that was being held.

"Easy, Dad. You're ok," he said gently as he squeezed his hand.

The blue eyes opened and struggled to focus in the dimly lit room before the eventually found the young man sitting by the bed.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing, Kyle was dead, he was sure of it. He squeezed his eyes shut as he willed the image haunting him to go away, thinking that surely he must have died and gone to Hell.

"No," he whispered as he shook his head from side to side, letting out a low moan of pain.

Kyle gripped his father's hand tighter as he leant closer to him.

"It's me, Kyle. Open your eyes, Dad."

He could hear the sound of the boy's voice yet refused to believe that the image he was being hounded with was nothing more than a ghostly apparition, sent to show him how he'd failed the ones he loved, yet again.

"Not….real," the redhead ground out as he kept his eyes firmly shut.

"I am, I promise you," Kyle responded as he felt hot tears prick at his own eyes.

"Please, Dad. Just open your eyes and look at me."

He felt his resolve weaken, thinking that he'd never hear the voice or see his sweet boy ever again. Surely it wouldn't hurt to take one last look at Kyle, even if he weren't real.

He opened his eyes slowly and let out a sob. His son was just the way he remembered him and not some ghoulish corpse sent to haunt him. This was the way he wanted to remember Kyle.

He called out to his son in a breathy whisper, trying to commit to memory his face before it disappeared along with all of the other people he had loved and lost along the way.

He could have stayed in that moment forever, looking at the young boy who was slowly growing into a man. Something nagged at the back of his mind, telling him that this moment wasn't real.

He shook his head again and spoke aloud to himself.

"It's not real."

Kyle was at a loss for what else to do, how could he make his father see that he was still alive and as real as anyone else?

He pushed the call button, giving the nurse a small smile as she entered the room.

"What can I do for you, Hun?"

"Is Dr Woods still here?"

"Sure, I'll page her and see if she'll pop by."

He returned his attention to his father as the nurse left the room, his heart sunk as he noticed that his father was still talking to himself. It took him by surprise when the blue eyes opened once more and stared straight at him.

"Kyle, I let you down. This is all my fault." The words were choppy as the redhead struggled to catch his breath, the fluid in his lungs causing him to cough between words.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he told his father as he stroked the back of his hand with his thumb.

"I should have saved you; I should have given them what they wanted."

His father sounded so sad, desperate, even.

"They killed you because I couldn't remember. Why couldn't I remember?"

He watched as his father began to get even more distressed, the monitors above the bed signalling how worked up he was getting.

He was glad to see Alexx enter the room a few moments later. He looked up at her with panicked eyes.

"What's the matter, sugar?" she asked as she placed a hand on the young man's shoulder.

He ran a hand over his face as he attempted to gather his composure.

"Dad seems to think that I'm not real, he's convinced that I'm dead and haunting him. He shouldn't be acting like this, should he?"

The doctor made her way over to the monitors and pressed a few buttons, nodding her head slightly at the readings before turning her attention back to Kyle.

"Your father's been through a terrible ordeal and he's still very unwell. We've got him on a cocktail of different drugs just to keep his vitals stable which is probably making him quite dazed and confused at the moment."

She pulled out her stethoscope and listened to the redhead's chest as he looked at her with panicked eyes. The wet sounds coming from Horatio's lungs confirmed what she had already suspected.

"It sounds as if the fluid has come back, we'll give him a strong course of antibiotics and hope that it kicks the pneumonia before it gets too bad."

She stopped when she saw the crestfallen look on Kyle's face and gave him what she hoped was an encouraging smile.

She was about to say something when Horatio croaked her name, she leant closer to his face to hear what he was saying.

"Am I dead?"

Had she not been so worried about her dear friend, she might have laughed at his question. She placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and frowned at the heat radiating from it.

"No, sugar, you're not. Kyle's alive and he's sitting right next to you."

The dazed blue eyes focused on her.

"You can see him too?" he asked as he began wheezing between words.

"Sure can," she smiled at him.

"Are you sure that I'm not in Hell?"

"Of course I am, sugar. You wouldn't expect to see me in Hell, would you?"

He was struggling to think logically at all at the moment, everything seemed in a jumbled mess. The more he thought about Alexx's statement, the more sense it began to make. Maybe he wasn't imagining that Kyle was with him, maybe the boy was real.

"He's real?" he asked, fearing that Alexx too would disappear into an ethereal mist and leave him on his own once more.

"That's right, baby. He's right here with you."

She stroked his head tenderly as she watched the redhead's eyes begin to droop until they finally closed, his head falling slowly to one side.

She motioned Kyle to follow her outside the room a few moments later.

With one final look, she closed the door and regarded the young man in front of her, knowing that she had to be honest with him.

"Kyle, you need to be prepared," she began. "We don't know half of what your father has been through but whatever it is, it's likely to have affected him deeply on an emotional level."

"He's very ill at the moment and that's probably why he's acting so out of sorts but you need to be aware that these changes in him might be permanent."

"You don't think he'll recover?"

"I really hope he does, believe me. Even after we've healed the physical injuries, he's going to need a lot of time and support to deal with things on a psychological level. He might not be the man you remember anymore."

"I don't care," he said firmly, causing Alexx's eyes to register her shock. "I don't care if he's changed. He's my father and I love him, nothing's going to change that."

He felt himself being pulled into a fierce hug, slowly wrapping his arms around the doctor who was so close to his father.

She pulled back and regarded him with a watery smile.

"He's going to need your love and care to get through this, Kyle."

The thought of seeing his father in such pain and misery felt like something was clawing at his own heart. Never had he felt so scared, so afraid, not even on the frontline in Afghanistan had he ever felt this unsure and nervous.

The one thing that he did know was that his father needed him. Their relationship had always been the other way around, him leaning on his father and looking for his support. He was growing from a boy into a man now, his father needed him to be strong and carry him for once.

He promised himself, and his father, that he would do whatever it took to help him recover.


	4. Chapter 4

**Miami, Present day:**

He gave her a weak smile as she entered the kitchen and sat down opposite him at the table.

"Here, you forgot this," she said as she held up a black neoprene support bandage and put it on the table in front of him.

He felt his cheeks colour a little in embarrassment and avoided eye contact with her as he put it on his left arm.

"Sorry, I guess I'm a little distracted this morning," he replied as he picked up his bagel and nibbled at it.

She watched him as he went through the motions of chewing and swallowing, looking for all the world as if he were being made to eat cardboard.

"It's ok to be nervous, you know."

His hands stilled and it took him a moment or two for him to regain his composure.

"I'm not nervous," he said quietly as he placed the half-eaten bagel back on the plate.

"Look, no one would think any less of you if you needed more time."

"I would think less of myself," he responded quietly and quickly, meeting her eyes for the briefest of moments before returning his gaze to the table.

"After what you've been through…"

He looked up at her this time.

"What I went through…..it was my fault. I should have known better than to think I could handle the situation myself. I put everyone in danger because I was too proud to ask for help. I could have got Kyle killed."

She was shocked by his negative self-assessment; surely he didn't blame himself for what happened to him at the hands of the Malucci's?

"Horatio, this wasn't your fault….."

"Kyle could have died, because of me. I wouldn't blame the rest of you if you don't trust me anymore. I was cowardly and reckless, those four police officers died because of me."

"Horatio, why would you say that?"

"Because it's true."

He finished the rest of his coffee before picking up his suit jacket from the back of the chair and shrugging it on. He placed his keys and wallet in his trouser pockets and turned to leave the room. Looking over his shoulder, he gave her a sad smile.

"Thank you for your hospitality, Calleigh. You've been more than generous in putting me up; I'll gather my belongings later and head home tonight."

The thought of him no longer sleeping in her bed shocked her momentarily. Theirs had been a relationship that could not easily be defined over the last few months. At first she tended to him as he recovered from his injuries and held him as the nightmares came to claim him night after night.

The only thing that seemed to soothe his troubled mind was the feel of her resting in his arms, even when his injuries protested against her physical presence; he continued to hold her close in an effort to keep his demons at bay.

Apart from a few chaste, yet meaningful kisses, they had remained platonic in their relationship. Whilst she dreamt of taking things further, she reminded herself that Horatio needed time to come to terms with his abduction and subsequent torture.

They had fallen into an easy routine; it had been many weeks since Horatio had needed any type of physical support in tending to his own needs. He could have easily moved back into his own house now that it had been redecorated and no longer bore the reminders of the Malucci's. But he chose to stay here, with Calleigh, and she was more than happy with the arrangement.

"I'll wait in the car," he said as he walked through the hallway to the front door.

She tucked her hair behind her ears and blew out a breath of frustration, at a loss as to what to do to convince Horatio to stay. For the last few days he had retreated within himself and she feared that his apprehension about returning to work was the main cause.

She flipped open her phone and dialled a number that she'd been dreading, wincing as the gruff voice answered the phone.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 14 weeks ago: **

He sat back awkwardly in the armchair as he munched absent-mindedly on the bag of potato chips he'd purchased from the hospital vending machine and watched as his former partner tossed and turned restlessly in the bed.

The redhead looked more than a little worse for wear, covered head to toe in cuts, bruises and burns with tubes and wires snaking in and out of the sheets that covered him. He could hear the other man mumble beneath the oxygen mask that covered his face, the wet sound of his breathing still evident as was the sweat beading on his forehead.

He placed the bag down and reached out a hand to his friend, squeezing the unconscious man's forearm.

"Easy, John. You're ok now."

The words had little effect on the restless figure as he continued to shake his head back and forth. He could see the eyes of the redhead roll from left to right as the eyelids opened slightly every now and then.

Lifting up the washcloth from the bowl, he dampened it in the cool water and placed it on the other man's head, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, when his friend finally began to settle again.

He took a slurp from his can of soda and settled back in the chair, wondering what John could possibly be dreaming about.

_He could feel their hands on him, beating him, touching him and taunting him._

_He had always thought of himself as a strong man but the pain cascading through his body was beginning to get too much for him to bear. _

_He had never felt pain like it when they smashed the baseball bat down on his arm. He could see the object coming towards him but was powerless to stop it from striking his bruised and battered flesh._

_They had left him sitting, bound to the chair, for hours on end. The endless cycle of light and heat, darkness and frigidity left him feeling dazed and confused until he no longer knew night from day._

_He had no idea how long he'd been sitting on the chair, it could have been hours or days, but it made no difference to his aching bladder as it made its impatient presence known._

_He had tried everything to stop it, but nature took its inevitable course as his body betrayed his mind. He could feel the wetness soaking through his pants and running down his legs. Had he the strength to lift his head, he would most likely have thrown it back in embarrassment and frustration, mortified by his own lack of control over his body's functions._

_His heart sank as one of his captors re-entered the room, laughing and sniggering at the mess he had made of himself. He could feel their hands on his body, taunting him as they moved closer to him and then suddenly away again._

_He couldn't see much in the dark and his view was limited by his inability to lift his head, his heart breaking into further pieces as the voice of one of the Malucci thugs resounded through his head._

_"Like father like son. Your boy made a mess in his pants too when we shot him in the head, maybe it runs in the family, eh?"_

_The thought of the young man lying dead in the street made his heart beat faster as adrenaline surged through his veins. He took a deep lungful of air as he screamed the name of his boy._

_"KYLE!"_

The force with which the man lying in the bed came awake made even the grizzled and seasoned Andy Sipowicz jump slightly in his chair. Standing up quickly he placed a hand on his distressed friend's shoulder and began talking to him, trying to calm him.

"Easy, fella, you're ok."

A pair of panicked blue eyes looked up at him; the injured man panted heavily and tried vainly to lift himself from the bed.

Andy didn't need to exert much strength to persuade the redhead to lie back down, his former partner offering little in the way of resistance to him. He studied the man sadly, shocked to see how much this ordeal had taken out of him.

"You ok now?" he asked as he slowly lowered himself back down to the chair, his knees creaking noisily.

The other man said nothing, squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he tried to stop the tears from falling. Praying that he would not display yet another sign of weakness in front of another person.

"You wanna talk about it?"

The younger man shook his head and then groaned at the stars that flashed in front of his eyes and the lancing pain that shot through his skull.

Andy could sense that his friend was shutting him out, trying to internalise his suffering and block out the physical and emotional pain that was battering him.

"The nightmares, they're about Kyle, aren't they?"

His question was rewarded with a pale attempt at a glare, the eyes of the man in the bed still dazed and glassy.

"You need to talk about it. Hiding things from us was how you got in this mess in the first place," Andy remarked dryly, gently chiding the man in front of him.

He suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of guilt as he saw the other man's crestfallen face and attempted to remove the foot that was now firmly wedged in his mouth, metaphorically speaking.

"Granted, I'm not the best person to lend an ear, but it's here if you want it."

The two men sat in silence for some time as a nurse came in to check her patient's IVs and then left again.

"How come you always get the damn luck with the nurses? When I got shot all I had was a Nurse Ratchet look-alike giving me sponge baths. How come you get all the hot ones?"

The question was meant to lift his friend's spirits but he felt his own smile falter at the stony face of the other man.

"Look, John, the doctor says she thinks you've come through the worst of it so I'm gonna head back to New York for a few days. I've got a few loose ends that I need to tie up."

The redhead nodded his head slightly and screwed his eyes shut again as another wave of pain washed over him. It hit Andy then that John had not said a word since he'd woken thrashing and screaming.

"It won't be for long, then I'll be back down to help you get back on your feet, ok?"

"Ok," was the barely audible response.

"You look tired pal, why don't you try to get some sleep," he suggested as he watched his friend struggle to keep his eyes open.

All the poor man had done was sleep since he'd been brought in barely alive, Andy had no doubt that the heady mix of injuries and medication was to blame for John's lethargy.

He waited until he was certain that the injured man was asleep before turning his attention to more pressing matters, namely his very full bladder.

He grimaced as he came face to face with the woman who had given him so much attitude and trouble since he'd come to Miami. The blonde woman looked markedly better than she had a few short days ago, the defeated look on her face replaced by one of defiance and self-assurance.

"Andy," she regarded him coolly, standing with her hands on her hips.

"Calleigh," he growled back in response.

"If you've come to see him I should tell you that he's asleep right now," his tone was icy towards the woman he viewed as his nemesis.

"Then I'll go and sit with him. I wouldn't want to let him wake up alone."

She raised any eyebrow at him, the venom clear in her voice.

He could feel his own hackles rise and bit down on the urge to give the woman a piece of his mind.

"Where are you going?" she asked as she watched him walk towards the corridor.

"The men's room, wanna join me?"

Now it was his turn to arch an eyebrow at her.

He smirked to himself, happy with his small, yet hollow, victory. He wasn't sure if it was the right time to mention it but figured any time would be as good as any, Calleigh Duquesne was not likely to change her negative opinion of him any time soon.

"Just so you know, I'm heading back to New York for a couple of days. There are a few things that I need to take care of."

"You're abandoning him. Again?"

A red mist of anger descended over him as he stalked his way back towards her.

"No, I'm not. I have family back home; I need to get some things in order there."

"I thought _he _was your family too. Is this what you do when things get tough, run away?"

"No, that would be John's forte."

The words were out of his mouth before he realised that he'd even said them. He knew he richly deserved the slap that stung his cheek painfully.

"Go home and don't come back, I don't want you anywhere near Horatio from now on."

He kicked himself, knowing that his smart mouth had got the better of him yet again. This time he'd dug himself into a hole that he wasn't sure how to get out of. He gave Calleigh one last look before nodding his head tightly and walking away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Miami. Present day: **

Her unpleasant phone call completed, Calleigh collected her belongings with a heavy heart as she took one last look around her kitchen before joining Horatio in the car.

"Here, you forgot these," she said as she passed him his sunglasses.

He nodded his thanks and put them on before returning his gaze to the passenger window.

He didn't really need them for medical purposes now; the photosensitivity that had afflicted him previously had cleared up several weeks ago. Still, she knew how fond he was of his sunglasses, how he used them as a shield from the rest of the world. Today would be hard for him; he was likely to need all the protection he could get.

With a final glance in his direction she started the car, pulling out of the gravel driveway and onto the road.

They sat in silence until Calleigh could take it no more.

"Why do you want to leave, why now?"

He fiddled with the support bandage on his wrist as he struggled to find the right words to say to her. She had been more than supportive to him in the last few months; he'd owed it to her to be honest, at least.

"It's complicated," he sighed, embarrassed that he had taken the easy way out yet again.

"Then explain it to me."

How could he? He could barely understand it himself.

He knew that in reality he was ashamed of his inability to cope on his own since his ordeal; all he really wanted to do was retreat into a dark corner and lick his wounds in solemn silence.

"I'm a grown man, Calleigh. I've recovered sufficiently; I should move back to my own house and let you get back to some sort of normality."

"But this feels normal to me, having you in my house…..in my bed."

She wasn't sure what his reaction would be to her last words but was pleasantly surprised to find that Horatio hadn't flinched at her words, in fact, he smiled.

"I feel the same way," he said honestly.

"Then what's the problem?"

She sighed a little in frustration as he averted his gaze once more.

"You deserve better than me."

"I don't want anyone better than you. I want you."

He had to try to make her see reason; she didn't need the emotional carnage that inevitably came with being in his life.

"I've got too much baggage. You need someone who is whole and can love you the way you deserve to be loved."

"But you do that just fine. I don't want anyone else."

"Calleigh," he began before his words were cut off.

"I don't want you to leave; I want you here with me. Will you stay, for me?"

She looked at him hopefully and he knew he had no resistance to her; he would gladly follow her to the gates of Hell and back if she asked.

Taking a deep breath he nodded and was rewarded by one of her hundred-watt smiles beaming straight at him. As apprehensive as he was about returning to the lab, he couldn't help but return her smile with one of his own.

She could sense his trepidation as they exited her car and made the short walk across the car park to the elevator that would take them into the bowels of the Miami Dade Police Department's forensic laboratories.

Calleigh glanced at Horatio out of the corner of her eye and frowned as she saw him fiddle with the arms of his sunglasses nervously. She could hear the deep breaths he was taking in an effort to calm his wildly beating heart.

Watching as the numbers on the elevator ascended, she reached out a hand and took one of his, squeezing it tightly and only letting go when the doors began to creak open, relieved that he had returned the steady pressure on her own hand.

The pair of them nodded to several lab technicians as they walked through the corridors of the lab, Horatio gave a small smile and a nod of the head in acknowledgement to the numerous 'welcome back' comments he received from them.

They were quickly outside the break room; one glance through the window was enough to tell them that the whole team had assembled in there, waiting for their daily briefing.

Calleigh couldn't fail to notice him stiffen as he stood stock still.

"We can go to your office first if you want," she suggested gently.

He shook his head before placing his sunglasses at the top of his shirt.

"No time like the present," he said as he plastered a pained smile on his face, wanting to get the whole thing over and done with.

He opened the door and braced himself for the reaction of the team. Of course, they had seen him many times since his ordeal and most of those times he was in a less than hospitable mood, often trying to push away their concerns about his physical and mental well-being. He needed them to understand that as their leader he should not be showing any signs of weakness, how could he lead a team if he couldn't even look after and deal with himself?

One glance around the room and he could see the familiar faces, all smiling at him. He suddenly felt uncomfortable at being the centre of attention, having a whole room look at him was never something he particularly enjoyed.

The air rushed out of his body with an 'oomph' as Natalia threw herself at her leader, squeezing him tightly and then placing a soft kiss on his cheek. She seemed to realise that her emotions had got the better of her as she quickly let him go, smoothing out her blouse as her cheeks coloured a rosy pink.

"Well, that was certainly some welcome," he replied dryly as he straightened his suit jacket and shirt.

A small ripple of laughter circulated the room.

"I'm sorry, Horatio. It's just that I've missed you, we've all missed you," she said sheepishly as the other members of the team nodded in agreement.

Frank left his perch on the side of the couch and walked towards the redhead only to stop when the other man took a step back.

"You're not going to kiss me are you?" Horatio asked warily, the hint of a smile on his face.

"Hell, not in a month of Sunday's, pal," the beefy Texan retorted as he took Horatio's hand in his and shook it firmly.

"It's great to have you back; this place hasn't been the same without you."

Frank seemed to realise what he'd said and turned to Calleigh to explain.

"No offense, Cal. You've done a great job these last few months….."

"It's ok, Frank, I know what you meant."

"About that," Horatio began as his eyes scanned the room, "Calleigh will still be in charge of the team in the interim."

He could see the look of shock on their faces and realised that they had all expected him to pick up exactly where he had left off before all of this had first begun.

"I've been away for quite a while; it's going to take some time for me to get up to speed. There's also the matter of meetings with IAB and the chief that need to be resolved before I can be reinstated as head of the crime lab."

_If they allow me to be reinstated at all, _he thought bitterly. If IAB had their way he would likely be out of a job and off the force after the debacle of his past coming back to haunt him.

He turned his head to Calleigh and nodded at her to take control of the meeting.

"Well, you all know what your current cases are. Let's get back to them."

The team nodded their heads but seemed to be reluctant to leave the room, as if leaving would somehow mean that Horatio had died out on the choppy waters of Miami all those months ago.

They filed out one by one, passing by Horatio with a slap on the shoulder or a shake of the hand until all but one of them were left.

"Was there something you needed, Tom?" Calleigh asked as he gave him a quizzical look.

"Just wanted to express my relief that Lieutenant Caine is back with us. I had an awful feeling at one point that he would be a resident in my morgue, I'm just glad that's not the case."

The blunt words didn't come as much of a surprise to either of the CSIs; they had all become used to Tom Loman's way with words. Horatio didn't take it as an insult and in fact was glad that the other man was treating him as he would at any other time. It made a nice change from being treated like he was going to break at any second.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Dr Loman. I too, am glad that I didn't end up on your table, although I'm sure you would have taken good care of me if I had."

"Indeed I would, Lieutenant, I can assure you."

The M.E nodded to both of them before leaving the room.

"Was it as bad as you were expecting?" Calleigh asked after the door had closed.

He tilted his head to the side and gave her a wry smile.

"Worse."

"Still, at least it's over and done with. You can concentrate on getting back in the swing of things. Let's go to your office and I'll bring you up to speed on our current cases."


	6. Chapter 6

One hour and several cups of coffee later, Calleigh had finally brought Horatio up to speed on the lab's current case load.

He sat back in his chair and let out a deep breath.

"Well, it seems like criminals never take a day off, do they?"

"You can say that again. We've had to draft in a couple of techs from the night shift to help shift the backlog of evidence that we've got piling up."

She saw the look of shame that flashed across his pale face and attempted to stop him before he could apportion even more blame to himself.

"No, it's not your fault. The backlog would have happened either way, you not being here had nothing to do with it."

She arched an eyebrow at him, daring him to challenge her statement as he had the good grace to nod his head and slowly close his mouth.

"So which one takes your fancy?" she asked as she looked down at the open case files on the desk.

"The murder-suicide that Eric's working on sounds like it might be interesting," he suggested half-heartedly.

She beamed another million-watt smile at him.

"I had a feeling you'd say that, he's waiting in Trace for you."

The surprise was evident on his face and so she decided to put him out of his misery.

"I know you, Horatio. The cases where things don't seem to add up are a favourite of yours. You like working the pieces of the puzzle out, it'll give your big old brain something to concentrate on."

He raised his head and tilted it slightly to the left as he regarded her.

"What would I do without you?" he remarked with a wry smile.

* * *

Case file in hand, Horatio walked through the halls until he found himself in the Trace department. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, admiring Eric's work and dedication to his job.

"Eric, mind if I join you?" he asked, causing the younger man to jump noticeably.

"Sure, be my guest," he replied as he made room at the workstation for his colleague and brother in law.

"What have you got so far?"

The tall Cuban smiled as he saw Horatio skimming his eyes over the evidence laid out on the table, ready to be processed.

"We got called out to a scene yesterday in Coral Gables, two DBs and a hell of a lot of blood. Looked like a straight up murder-suicide."

The redhead turned to look at the other man.

"But you don't think that's the case?"

Eric shook his head as he picked up a piece of bloodied clothing; it looked like a woman's blouse.

"If this was just a simple crime of passion, husband murders wife scenario, then why is there so much blood spatter on the wife's clothes. It doesn't make any sense."

"What is the evidence telling you, Eric?"

"It's telling me that something hinky is going on. Maybe the wife murdered her husband and then killed herself," he mused as he placed a hand on his chin.

"But the end result would still be the same, murder-suicide," Horatio countered.

"Or maybe the whole thing was staged. I gotta be honest with you, H; this one's got me stumped."

"Have you had the autopsy reports back from Dr Loman yet?"

"No, he says they won't be completed until later on today."

The redhead could the see the apprehension on his colleagues face, something was clearly bothering him.

"Is there a problem, Eric?" he asked gently, trying not to sound like a headmaster chiding a student.

"I only did a cursory investigation of the scene; I just assumed that it was a simple 'open and shut' case."

The younger man's cheeks flushed with shame and embarrassment as he avoided looking in his superior's direction.

"Well, we all know what happens when we assume, don't we?" the redhead responded dryly.

"I'm sorry, H, it was sloppy of me. I should have known better than to not look beneath the surface. You taught me that, right?"

"Don't worry about it, brother. Let's go back and take another look at the crime scene, shall we?"

The mood was quiet in the Hummer on the drive back to the crime scene as Eric kept making furtive glances towards his passenger. It hadn't escaped his attention how Horatio had for the most part kept his gaze straight ahead as he absent-mindedly fiddled with his sunglasses. He also hadn't missed how the redhead had flinched each time they drove over a bump or pothole.

"Bet it feels good to be back, huh?"

At least he was rewarded with a glance in his direction for his troubles as a pair of steely blue eyes pinned him before the other man's expression softened.

"I am glad to be back, believe me, I sometimes wondered if I'd ever see this day. I just get the feeling….I don't know, that I should be more enthusiastic about it than I actually am."

"How so?"

Horatio closed his eyes for a moment or two as he gathered his thoughts.

"Standing in front of the team, working evidence and crime scenes, it just reminds me of what a complete ass I made of myself."

"H, you know that's not true."

"I failed myself, I failed the team and most of all, I failed Kyle. If I'd just been able to swallow my pride and tell you what was happening then maybe we could have avoided all of this."

"What happened happened. There's nothing any of us can do about it now, we've just gotta put it behind us and move on, right?"

The redhead sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That's the problem, Eric. I'm not sure that I can."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 13 weeks ago:**

Frank strolled into the ICU department, rubbing at the back of his neck in an attempt to release some of the tension from his tired and aching muscles. It had been just over a week since Horatio's dramatic rescue at sea and it seemed to Frank that the criminals of Miami had seen it as their chance to wreak havoc in the city.

Cases had been piling up in the department for the last few days and it certainly didn't help having a team of CSIs who were more than a little distracted from their normal duties by their concern for their leader. At least Calleigh and Eric had taken it in turns to oversee the lab while the other stood guard at their friend's bedside day after day.

The rest of the team had popped by to visit as and when their free time allowed but Frank could see the toll that it had taken on all of them. They had been shaken to see Horatio in such a state, physically and emotionally, the tough and vibrant lieutenant had battled through the last week and it was only yesterday that Alexx had admitted that he was likely out of danger.

Smiling at a nurse who walked by, Frank made his way to his friend's darkened room opening the door quietly and finding the redhead seemingly asleep. He crept over and sat down in the chair beside the bed, surprised to find that Horatio had opened his eyes.

"Hey, pal," Frank smiled as he saw the cloudy and pain-filled eyes looking straight at him.

"Frank," the other man croaked as he battled to keep his eyes open.

"How're you holding up?"

He could see Horatio's eyes roll towards the back of his head each time he blinked.

"Been better," he mumbled from behind the oxygen mask that had been a permanent fixture on his face since he'd been brought in.

He was relieved to see that his friend was at least breathing a little easier than he had been a few days ago; it seemed as if the vast amounts of medication the doctors were administering to Horatio were at last doing their job.

The lights in the room were still dimmed, attempts to gradually increase the brightness had all resulted in failure so far and it concerned Frank that Horatio might never be able to return to duty as a police officer.

Glancing around the room, Frank could see a corner dedicate entirely to presents and cards that had been delivered to the lab from concerned citizens and well-wishers. He smiled at the memory of dozens of mail deliveries being made and the poor receptionists at the department being overrun with gifts and cards.

The team had taken it in turns to bring the items with them each time they visited and hoped that it would cheer their injured colleague up to know that so many people held him in high regard.

He wasn't sure if it was the medication they were pumping into Horatio that made the redhead so quiet and withdrawn, but he could sense that there was something different about his friend since he'd woken up.

"Ryan's gonna drop by later with another sack of goodies for you."

Horatio's only response was to nod his head slightly and close his eyes.

"It's not right."

The quiet and croaky voice was barely audible over the beeping of the monitors but Frank could not mistake the sorrow in the other man's voice.

"People care about you, Horatio. They just want to show their support," he tried to reason with his friend.

"Not worth it."

"Sure you are, pal."

The monitors began to beep with increasing urgency as Horatio became more distressed. Frank was at a loss for what to do and felt useless as he heard a nurse enter the room to attend to her ailing patient.

"Are you getting yourself over-excited again, Mr Caine?" the nurses cajoled as she placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to focus on her.

She was rewarded by a garbled jumble of words from her patient as he looked at her and then back towards Frank.

"Just lay back and relax, try to get some sleep," she suggested as she adjusted the drip hanging by the bed.

It took a while but the redhead finally drifted away into a restless slumber as Frank followed the nurse from the room, surprised to bump into Calleigh and Kyle.

"Shouldn't you two be at home resting?" he groused as he ran a hand over his balding head.

Calleigh glanced at the young man by her side and gave Frank an embarrassed smile.

"I don't think either of us could get much sleep. It sounds silly but I feel better being closer to Horatio."

She could tell by the look on Frank's face that something was troubling him.

"Is something wrong with Horatio?" she asked nervously as she glanced towards Kyle.

The tall Texan let out a deep breath, not sure how to put his thoughts into words.

"I know that he's still pretty sick but I just can't shake the feeling that something's changed with Horatio. It seems to me like a part of Horatio was left out there on the water when they rescued him."

The look on Calleigh's face said it all; she knew exactly what Frank meant. It seemed to her as though a part of Horatio was missing and that it was still drifting, lost at sea.


	7. Chapter 7

**Present day. Miami:**

Calleigh let out a tired sigh as she signed off on yet another report that had crossed her desk this morning. Between signing off on case files, expenditure claims and annual leave requests, Calleigh wondered how Horatio had managed it for all these years.

She felt more like an administrator than a police officer, unhappy at the fact that she was spending more time chained to her desk than she was out in the field. It puzzled her how Horatio could complete all of the required paperwork and yet still spend so much time out on the front line.

Deep down she knew that it was because the redhead spent so much of his time at the lab, coming in early, leaving late and working weekends, something that had become a regular occurrence since the death of Marisol.

It was a typical Horatio response, to bury himself in his work in order to keep his thoughts from those of his late wife. It worried her how much he had changed since that fateful day that Marisol had been gunned down and she knew that he blamed himself for her death.

There would be no point trying to reason with the stubborn lieutenant, it was just the way he was. Each time something happened, he would take it as a personal failure on his part. He constantly strived to be better, to do better for the people he cared about and would then berate himself for inevitably coming up short.

Having knowledge of what Horatio had been through had helped her to understand the complicated man a bit better. He had more heart and courage than any man she'd ever met yet seemed to have little or no regard for his own emotional needs, constantly putting others before himself.

His past had taught him that it was better to keep people at arm's length and it was something that Calleigh had tried to make Horatio see was wrong. Over the past few months she had set about systematically breaking down the walls that Horatio had built around his heart, her progress was frustratingly slow at times as she struggled to make him accept the love and acceptance that was on offer. Each time she would instigate meaningful physical contact he would invariably shy away at some point. She knew that he felt the same way about her as she did of him but something stopped him from letting down his most intimate defences around her.

He had been deeply traumatised by his ordeal, of that there was no doubt. There were days when she wondered if she would ever see the return of the strong and stoic lieutenant that they had all grown to love and admire. She had seen him at his lowest point and on his darkest days, had watched helplessly as his dreams tormented him and held him as he woke from them screaming or flailing his arms in an effort to bat away the unseen demons in his mind.

Little by little, parts of Horatio's self-sufficient demeanour fell back into place. She would notice it when members of the team came to visit after their shift, the way he would put on his 'game face' and give the impression that all was well with him. It was only around Kyle and herself that he would allow the mask to fall away and she felt honoured that a man as private as Horatio would allow her to see the darkest corners of his troubled soul.

There were still times when Horatio would convince himself that she was better off without him which would lead to heated conversations between the pair, conversations that Calleigh would more than often come out on top. There were times when he needed her strength and the courage of her convictions as she battled to talk some sense into him, their conversation this morning a prime example.

Calleigh was disturbed from her musings by a knock at the door, straightening the papers on her desk she beckoned her visitor to come in. The smile spreading across her face as a familiar face walked in.

"Alexx, I'm so glad you could make it. How's work?" she asked as she walked around the desk to greet the doctor warmly.

"Busy, as usual. How about you, sugar?"

"The same," she smiled back.

"A little bird told me that a certain handsome redhead returned to work today. I had a quick peek in the lab on my way down but couldn't see our boy."

"He's working a case with Eric; they're out in the field at the moment."

"How did it go this morning, was Horatio ok?" the doctor asked, concern evident in her voice as she sat in the chair opposite Calleigh.

"He didn't sleep well last night; he was restless, tossing and turning. He was like a cat on a hot tin roof until we got here."

"That's understandable, honey. It's a big deal for him to come back, I take it that the team didn't make too much of a fuss over him?"

"I think that's what made him so nervous, having to face everyone again," Calleigh replied as she picked at a hangnail on her right hand.

"It'll do him good to break himself back in gently. Getting him to work with Eric was a good idea; we all know how close those two are."

"I know Eric will look after him but I can't help but worry about Horatio. I know it sounds silly…."

The kindly doctor interrupted her.

"Calleigh, we all saw first-hand what they did to him. It's no wonder that you're feeling overprotective of him, you've been by his side every step of the way."

"I'm not saying that you shouldn't worry about him because you always will, but Horatio needs to work this out for himself. You've gotta let go of the reigns and let him sink or swim."

"I know you're right, Alexx," Calleigh admitted after a short silence.

"I usually am, sugar," she smiled back. "Horatio is a proud man, Calleigh, his independence is important to him. You know how much he hates relying on other people.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 12 weeks ago:**

"Hey, Dad," Kyle said brightly as he let himself into his father's hospital room, happy to see that the oxygen mask had been removed and replaced with a nasal cannula.

Horatio gave him a week smile in response as he tried to adjust his position in the bed and became frustrated when his own body failed him.

Sensing his father's frustration, Kyle made a grab for the bed controls and used it to raise the head of the bed slightly.

"They're putting you back on food?" the young man questioned as he saw the untouched plate of food on his father's bed tray.

"They're trying to, I don't feel hungry though," Horatio admitted.

Taking a look at the plate, Kyle could understand why, the sloppy grey mixture looked completely unappetising even compared to the freeze-dried Army rations that he was used to.

"You've got to try to eat something, Dad. You need to keep your strength up."

And it was true; the redhead had all but withered away in front of their eyes. It certainly didn't help his appetite with the cocktail of drugs that he was still being administered which Kyle knew often left him in a doped-up daze and feeling nauseous.

"How about I sneak you in some real food, maybe a cup of coffee too?" he suggested, trying to raise his father's spirits. His face fell when the other man did not return his enthusiasm.

"Alexx says that I have to graduate to solid food slowly," he growled as he raised his uninjured hand to his eyes, pinching his nose in frustration and wincing when his fingers came into contact with the still-healing wounds on his face.

Kyle lifted the paper bag he had been carrying, smiling as he emptied the contents onto the bed.

"Alexx said the burns on the bottom half of your face are healed enough for you to have a shave now."

He eyed the items on his bed with a sense of horror as he realised that he would be unable to complete the simple task himself. He desperately wanted a shave, the beard that had grown over the last few weeks had become increasingly itchy as the burns on his face healed and his personal hygiene wasn't helped by the fact that the nurses had smothered his cheeks in a foul-smelling ointment at least twice a day since he'd been here.

He recoiled in the bed further as he watched Kyle pick up the can of shaving cream, squirting some into his hand.

"What are you doing?" he questioned, his voice rising as his sense of panic increased.

"I'm going to give you shave, what do you think I was doing?" his son returned with a smile.

"No," the redhead bit out.

"Dad, you need a shave. You're starting to look like a hippy."

The words were meant to be teasing but Kyle was dismayed to find that it had the opposite effect on his father as he began to get increasingly upset.

"You're not doing it," Horatio growled as he gave his son a fierce glare.

"Well, it's either me or the nurses," he countered, hoping that his father would back down.

"Then let the nurses do it."

The young man sighed in frustration.

"Dad, let me help you," he pleaded.

"No."

"I don't understand, why not?"

"Because you're my son!"

The unexpected outburst took Kyle by surprise; he'd never really witnessed his father losing his cool before. He was aware that he was in new territory now in his relationship with the older man.

"That's exactly the reason you should let me help. Families look after each other, you taught me that."

He watched on helplessly as the redhead's anger dissipated into sadness and shame, his breathing slowing as he screwed his eyes shut. A physical pain pierced Kyle's heart as he saw the hot tears beginning to leak from his father's eyes.

"You've got nothing to feel ashamed about, let me take care of you."

He felt the tears spring to his own eyes as he gently reached out and applied the cream to his father's face, saying nothing as he silently went about tending to the man he had grown to love so dearly.


	8. Chapter 8

**Miami. Present day:**

Horatio and Eric had spent over an hour going back through the crime scene, the young Cuban reminding himself to pay more attention to the small details, it was often these that led to a break in a case.

Making his way from the kitchen area he watched his colleague process the living room where the bloodshed had occurred. He smiled as he watched Horatio scan the room with fluorescent light and luminol, admiring the way that the man went about his work.

Eric figured that it must have been some kind of sixth sense, but somehow the other man knew that he was being watched. Turning off his torch, he turned towards Eric, an eyebrow arched in puzzlement.

"Something caught your interest, Eric?" the redhead asked sardonically.

Eric coughed in embarrassment as he realised that he had been caught in the act of openly staring at his boss.

"It's…um….it's just….it's nothing, don't worry about it," he replied raising a hand up to wave off any more questions as he busied himself with placing a piece of evidence in a clear bag.

The Cuban's uncharacteristic fumbling of his words piqued Horatio's interest as he walked further towards the younger man, stopping a few paces away from him with his hands on his hips, using the sideways stance and steely glare that had put so many criminals on edge throughout the years.

Eric knew that his brother in law was unlikely to let this line of questioning go any time soon, Horatio would wheedle it out of him one way or another, he figured now was as good a time as any to say what was on his mind.

"Watching you process a scene, it reminds me of something that Andy said to me while you were missing."

He saw Horatio's face darken as he was once again reminded of his time at the hands of the Malucci's. He'd tried so hard to put the whole ordeal behind him but it would invariably rear its ugly head when he was least expecting it, shaking the little self-assurance he had managed to rebuild so far. Who was he kidding? He would never get past what they had done to him, to his family.

Eric noticed the sudden change in his colleague's demeanour and realised his earlier attempts at appearing relaxed and confident were nothing more than a ruse, designed to fool the younger man into thinking everything was ok.

"H, you ok?" he asked the redhead as he saw the distant look in the familiar blue eyes.

It took a few moments for Horatio to return to his senses as he shook his head, as if clearing the mental fog.

"I'm fine," he mumbled as he fiddled with the torch in his hand, avoiding eye contact with Eric.

Neither man spoke for a number of awkward moments until Horatio finally broke the silence.

"What were you saying about Andy?"

He took a deep breath before beginning, hoping that he wasn't going to send his brother in law spiralling back into the dark cloud of despair that had been hanging around his neck like a noose.

"Andy came with me when I processed Calleigh's driveway, we were looking for a bullet from the ambush."

He looked up and saw Horatio tense before returning to a placid facial expression, motioning for the other man to continue.

"He said that he couldn't see you as a science guy, that you were more a man of action than, and I quote, 'some geek who works in a lab'."

"And what did you say, Eric?" the redhead asked as he twisted his neck to regard the younger man.

"I told him the truth, that I'd be nothing without you."

"Eric, you know that's not true," Horatio began before he found himself interrupted by his colleague.

"Are you kidding me? You gave me my first break, taught me everything I knew. I'm the CSI I am because of you."

Suddenly, he felt and overwhelming urge to bolt from the room. Eric's flattering assessment of his abilities as a crime scene investigator and a leader were embarrassingly inaccurate. The last six months had only gone to show what a complete idiot he had made of himself.

"You're confused, brother. You're where you are despite me, not because of me."

Eric could rapidly feel himself losing patience with the other man. Sure, Horatio had been to Hell and back recently but the self-pitying shell of a man in front of him was not the Horatio Caine that he remembered, the man that he knew and loved.

"When are you going to get it through your head? You've been through something that none of us would ever want to experience, but there comes a time when you've got to accept it for what it was."

"And tell me, what was it, Eric?" the redhead growled menacingly.

"It was shit, but it happened. I know you; I know that you're stronger than this. Since when do you let the bad guys win? Accept it and move on."

The Cuban's words were blunt and harsh but it seemed to have the desired effect as he finally saw a flicker of life in the older man's eyes. He was pinned with a fearsome glare that eventually softened somewhat as Horatio let his gaze drop to the ground.

"You've spent far too much time around Andy," he muttered as he returned his gaze to Eric.

A wave of relief washed over Eric as he saw the wry grin on the other man's face.

"What can I say," he said as he shrugged his shoulders and returned Horatio's grin with one of his own. "He's a hell of a guy."

"That he is, brother. That he is."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 12 weeks ago:**

Andy stepped quietly into his former partner's hospital room, trying to keep the noise his shoes were making on the linoleum floor to a minimum. He stood stock still and winced as he heard the redhead groan.

A pair of dulled blue eyes regarded him sleepily, the man in the bed still clearly groggy either from his multitude of injuries or the drugs that were being continuously pumped into him.

"Andy?" the voice croaked.

"Yeah, John, it's me," he said as he made his way over to the bed and sat down in the chair.

"You look better than the last time I saw you."

The other man let his head fall to the side as he regarded his visitor quizzically.

"I do?"

"Yeah, you do. Just spoke to your doctor friend outside, she says you're doing better."

The younger man nodded his head sleepily.

"Alexx," he muttered as he tried to keep his eyes open, finding his body once more disobeying his commands.

"I see they've given you a shave," Andy said as he fiddled with a box, no bigger than a notepad.

He saw his friend's countenance darken for a brief moment before the dazed look reappeared.

"Where have you been?" the man in the bed asked as he blinked heavily several times.

"I had to go back to New York, sort a few things out. You remember me telling you, right?"

Andy suddenly worried that John had no recollection of his last visit, although he wouldn't be surprised, the man was hardly in good shape the last time he'd seen him.

"You said you'd only be gone a few days, what happened?" the redhead croaked.

The comment caught him off guard for a moment, even as drugged up as he was, his friend's mind was still sharp as a tack. It was one of the things that made him such a good cop.

He fidgeted awkwardly in his seat for a few moments before answering.

"Things took a little bit longer than I was expecting. The wheels of bureaucracy and all that."

Andy once more found himself staring into a pair of blue eyes, dulled by pain and medication but still clear enough to shoot him a puzzled look.

"Am I missing something?" the younger man said as he lifted his shaky yet uninjured hand to his forehead, rubbing at his eyes.

The eyes pinned him again, the voice more forceful this time.

"Why did you go back?"

"I told you, I had some business to take care of," Andy replied evasively as he avoided looking at his friend and continued to fiddle with the box in his hands.

"Tell me," the injured man growled.

He could see that John was beginning to get increasingly agitated by his reluctance to divulge the real reason for his visit back home. With a deep sigh, he began.

"I went back to New York to set the record straight. I've still got a few contacts in the NYPD; they set me up with a meeting to talk to the Chief of Police. I told them everything, John."

He looked into his former partner's face and was dismayed with the distraught look on the other man's face.

"You did what?"

"I told them about your time working for the FBI, I told them why you did those things. People deserve to know the truth."

"You had no right," the redhead ground out, radiating anger.

"I had every right, John! I wasn't gonna let people continue to think that you were some kind of dirty cop. You put your ass on the line to protect us all; you deserve to be respected for that."

"No, I don't. You should have left it well alone. The past is dead and buried, just like John Kelly."

Andy couldn't believe what his friend was saying; surely he didn't believe that the old John Kelly had died back in New York. The man might have assumed a new identity but there were still a great deal of traits of the old persona interweaved into the new one.

He huffed as he fidgeted in the chair again.

"Well, you'll have to take that up with One Police Plaza. As of three days ago your personnel file has been changed to reflect what you did. You're a hero as far as anyone in the NYPD is concerned."

The blue eyes bore into him again, this time reflecting the younger man's complete shock. He knew that now was the time to hand something over that the other man had been denied for too long. He opened the box and smiled as the dim light in the room reflected off of the shiny surface of the object inside. He turned it around and placed it in the redhead's hand with a smile.

"I also managed to get this," he said as he watched John run his fingers reverently over the gold surface of the badge.

It wasn't just a badge, it was _his _badge. The one they had taken off of him the day he had been arrested for being in possession of half a kilo of cocaine. He had been so certain at the time that he would never set eyes on the precious item again. He looked up into the face of his old partner, opening and closing his mouth several times before he managed to croak a few words out.

"How did you get this?" he asked as he returned his attention to the badge.

"I had to bang a few heads together, that's why it took me so long to get back to Miami. I wasn't going to leave until I had your badge back."

"But why? I don't understand."

"Because it's yours and you earned it, a million times over. I was such a prick to think that you could've been dirty, it was the least I could do to try to make it up to you."

Andy was looking at him with such sincerity that he found himself unable to stop the tears springing to his eyes; he had never been so touched by a gift before. Suddenly the realisation of the years that had been lost to bitterness and regret between the two of them came rushing to the surface as he realised how much the older man meant to him.

"Thank you," he whispered as the tears rolled freely down his face.

It warmed Andy's heart to see the affect his gesture had had on the redhead and he felt as if he had begun travelling along the long road towards forgiveness. Not just for how he had treated John, but for everyone he had failed along the way. He knew that having John in his life made him a better man and no matter what would happen in the future he would never allow his own pride and ego get in the way of his friendship with the man he had always regarded as a son.


	9. Chapter 9

**Miami, Present day:**

Sitting on a wooden bench, coffee in one hand and pastrami sandwich in the other, Calleigh could not deny that it felt good to be out of the lab and out of the office that had begun to feel more like a prison cell than a place of work.

She looked up to the clear blue sky and let out a contented sigh, watching as the birds soared through the air, busying themselves with whatever it was that they did in the midday heat in Miami.

"When was the last time you relaxed, sugar?" Alexx asked softly as she took a sip of her double mocha latte before placing it back down in the bench beside her.

She was puzzled by the doctor's question.

"I don't understand what you mean."

"When I came to your office it seemed as if you had the weight of the world on your shoulders. Tell me what's wrong, honey."

She wanted to, her heart ached to tell Alexx everything that Horatio had told her in the past few months but she knew that to do so would betray his trust in her in the worst possible way.

Yet she knew that she couldn't keep dealing with this on her own, things had become much harder since Kyle had returned to his posting in the Army. Even though geographically he was not that far away the loss of his presence was felt deeply by Horatio, and by extension, her too.

"It's complicated, Alexx," she replied evasively, keeping her gaze centred on a scruffy-looking dog chasing a Frisbee across the lush green grass of the park.

"How so?"

"Horatio, he's been through so much…..I guess I just question sometimes whether I'm doing him more harm than good."

The other woman had to force herself not to aspirate the coffee in her mouth as she let out a choked cough.

"Honey, he wouldn't have got this far without you. You're one of the reasons he's even here at all."

"He told me this morning that he was going to move back to his place until I begged him not to. What if I'm just holding him back, what if he's better off without me?"

"I seriously doubt that, Cal. Whether he realises it or not, he's needed your strength over these last few weeks. He cares about you a great deal, you know that, right?"

"I care about him too, maybe too much. Maybe I'm not what he needs right now?"

"He needs you, girl. Trust me."

She looked at her friend and former colleague, a look of pitiful desperation on her face.

"He's trying so hard to put a brave face on it, to pretend that he's okay when I know that he's not. Every time I try to get him to open up he just shuts down and changes the subject. He needs to talk about what happened, Alexx, it's eating him up inside."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 10 weeks ago: **

Alexx entered her patient's room and was pleasantly surprised to find him awake and alert, certainly an improvement on the last few weeks at any rate. Horatio had been transferred from the ICU yesterday and was now ensconced in a private room on the regular ward; but the change of scenery had done nothing to improve the redhead's distant mood.

"Hey there, sugar," she said as she picked up the chart at the end of the bed.

"Alexx," he returned curtly as he tried to shuffle up the bed and found himself unable to.

He mumbled his thanks as Alexx adjusted the head of the bed and the pillows to allow him to find a more comfortable position.

"How's the patient feeling today?" she teased as she placed a hand on his arm.

"Fine," he said without looking at her, a scowl marring his handsome face.

His surly demeanour sent alarm bells ringing in her head as she took a look at the readings on the monitor beside the bed.

"Are you sure you're not in pain, do you feel unwell?" she questioned as she placed her open palm to his forehead.

He swatted it away and gave her a patented 'Horatio' glare.

"I told you, I'm fine."

All he wanted was for her to leave him alone to wallow in his misery, having been haunted by yet another memory of his sordid past; he wanted nothing more than to be left to his own devices.

The memories and dreams were haunting him with alarming regularity as he was bombarded with horrific images, some genuine and real, others figments of his overworked imagination.

Every time he closed his eyes he could see their faces, sometimes it was those of his captors and others it would be of Lori, Kyle or Robin, always the face of someone accusing him of not doing enough, berating him for the choices he had made all those years ago.

It was hard enough living through those dark days the first time, but to have your history spelled out for you in front of the people who cared about you was all the more worse. Twice he had been forced to confront those feelings of loneliness, bitterness and anger as the memories of his time as a pawn of the FBI sprang back fresh in his mind.

How could any of them bear to look at him now? Now that they knew what he had done and what had been done to him, he knew that they would see him as less of a man. After all, that was how he viewed himself.

So much of his past had returned to his conscious thoughts that he found it hard to understand how he should react to the people around him. Half of him still felt like John Kelly while the other half of his personality tried to force its domination as the stoic Lieutenant Caine.

His head was in a spin, he simply had no idea how to find a balance between his past and his present. He felt as if he were being pulled in two different directions as he listened to the words of his colleagues as they told him that he was getting better, stronger each day.

The truth was that as he recovered from his injuries and became more coherent he simply became more confused about his emotions as the images from his past battered him more with each passing day.

He felt Alexx place her warm hand on his arm once more and give it a light squeeze.

"I'm here if you want to talk, sugar."

He closed his eyes and feigned tiredness knowing that the longer he kept his eyes open and stayed in her presence the weaker he would feel. It would only take one look into her soulful brown eyes to fall to pieces and admit everything to her. He couldn't do it; he couldn't let her see what he really was. She would think less of him if she knew the truth and he knew he simply couldn't stand to lose the friendship they had both worked so hard to cultivate.

She watched him as he lay on the bed with his eyes closed. She knew him too well, it was obvious to her that he was faking his fatigue and that it was simply a ploy to get her to leave. It was his way of signalling that the conversation was over.

She left the room with a sigh, hoping that when the redhead did finally fall asleep that he would not be plagued with yet more nightmares, the sound of his tortured screams from the night before still registering in her ears.

* * *

**Present day, Miami:**

"Is he still having nightmares?" Alexx asked as she finished her sandwich and drained the last of her coffee.

"Most nights," the other woman responded quietly as she followed suit.

"Any luck getting him to talk to anyone about it?"

"You mean professionally?"

Alexx nodded her head.

"No, he point-blank refuses."

"But he passed a psych evaluation at the department?"

Calleigh let out a soft snort.

"He's been through more of those evaluations than the rest of us put together. He knows exactly what to tell them to get reinstated."

"Do you think he's ready to return to duty?"

"He's passed the physical and the psych evaluation, as far as the department is concerned, he's fit for duty."

"But you have your doubts?" the doctor pressed.

"Not doubts, so much. He's had so many flashbacks since we found him, I just worry that one will hit him at the wrong moment. All it takes is a split-second to be distracted in this job and your life could be over, literally."

"You could give him desk duty, you're still technically in charge," Alexx suggested.

The other woman let out a small gasp of shock.

"I couldn't do that to him. It would destroy him. He'd think I don't trust him!"

"Do you?"

"Of course I do, I trust him with my life, Alexx."

"And the lives of your colleagues?"

She was astonished by what the doctor was insinuating, that Horatio was some kind of liability to the team. She knew the man too well, it was obvious that he would remove himself from duty if he felt that were the case. She had never had reason to doubt Horatio before and she was damn sure that she wasn't going to start now.


	10. Chapter 10

Calleigh returned to the lab after lunch with a heavy heart. She knew that some of the things Alexx had said were probably true, was Horatio in the right frame of mind to be back on duty? Only time would tell.

She had barely had time to sit down behind the desk in Horatio's office when she was disturbed by a knock at the door; she beckoned in her newest visitor with a sigh, hoping that it wasn't another member of the team coming to question the judgement of her or Horatio.

She had been expecting Ryan or Natalia to be on the other side of the door, or even Tom. The woman standing in the doorway was the last person she had envisaged seeing today.

Her eyes narrowed as she regarded the sharply-dressed woman before her, noting the fierce yet feminine trouser suit she was wearing.

"Sargent Craig, what a pleasant surprise."

The icy way she spoke left the IAB officer in no doubt that her colleague was less than pleased to see her.

"CSI Duquesne," the raven haired woman replied just as coolly, her sharp green eyes hidden beneath a pair of horn-rimmed glasses.

"Take a seat," Calleigh muttered as her counterpart pulled up a chair without being invited to.

The IAB placed the file she had been carrying on her lap and opened it, perusing leisurely through the first few pages before returning her attention to Calleigh.

"It's my understanding the Lieutenant Caine returned to duty this morning."

"Yes, that's correct. Why is it any of your business?" she asked as readjusted her position in her chair.

"My visit shouldn't come as a surprise to you, CSI Duquesne, it is department policy to interview all interested parties when an officer returns to duty after such a long….absence."

She could feel her ire rising at the prim woman sitting before her yet she refused to be baited by her.

"It is also department policy to investigate when officers are killed in the line of duty. Four men lost their lives because of the….situation with Lieutenant Caine. Questions must be answered and people held accountable. You know that as well as I do, being an officer of the law yourself."

It took all of her might not to jump over the table and smack the smug look off of the other woman's face. Stetler may have been gone for a number of years but his legacy still lived on in the woman that took his place. She seemed to have just as much of an axe to grind with the Lieutenant as her predecessor did.

This was nothing more than a witch hunt, news of Horatio's abduction and subsequent rescue had spread like wildfire throughout Miami and beyond. Although most of the details of the redhead's past had been kept under wraps, the media frenzy over Horatio had taken several weeks to die down.

It seemed as if IAB had taken it as a personal insult as the media and the general public created a wave of sympathy for their fallen hero. Sargent Craig was making it her mission to make Horatio a scapegoat, laying the deaths of the uniformed officers squarely at his door.

It was the last thing he needed, an IAB officer driven by her need to accelerate her career at any cost, the most power-hungry of people were usually the hardest to deal with. She knew that she needed to protect Horatio from the worst that this woman had to throw at him.

"We also need to assess whether your actions while in charge of the crime lab were satisfactory. We've heard rumours that some of your colleagues were less than sure about the methods you adopted over the duration of the Lieutenant's abduction."

She opened her mouth to respond but found herself already cut off.

"What is your relationship with Lieutenant Caine?"

The question caught her off guard as the shock clearly registered on her face.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

The IAB gave her a patronising smile before answering.

"There have been several rumours circulating the department over the last twelve months that you and your superior had a more than professional relationship."

How could anyone have known about that? The pair of them had been skirting around the idea of pursuing a relationship for a short while before all of the mayhem had unfolded around them and turned both of their worlds upside down.

During those weeks they had been careful never to bring close attention to their blossoming relationship. They had only exchanged smiles and quick glances, the odd flirty comment when they were on their own perhaps. It didn't make sense that IAB would have any idea of what was or wasn't going on between her and Horatio.

She told herself that the other woman was just fishing, trying to goad her into blurting out something incriminating.

"Those rumours are unfounded," she smiled back sweetly. "Lieutenant Caine and I merely have a close professional relationship, nothing more."

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to change your answer to that question, CSI Duquesne?" the IAB officer asked as she glanced down at the file in her lap.

"According to out sources, Lieutenant Caine has been residing at your house since his release from hospital, is that correct?"

"He needed someone to help take care of him, he was horrifically injured after his abduction," Calleigh responded as she shot daggers at the other woman with her eyes.

Sargent Craig looked down at her notes again.

"It says in his hospital reports that he was released approximately eight weeks ago. Last week he passed both a psychological evaluation and a physical."

"That's correct."

"So my question to you, Miss Duquesne, is this, why is the Lieutenant still residing with you? Surely he is now able to look after himself; he wouldn't be back at work if he couldn't."

The other woman had a fair point, yet she refused to be dictated to by IAB, what business of theirs was it who she lived with and what she did in her own free time.

"He's staying with me as a friend," she replied, not willing divulge the details of her relationship with the redhead to her, she wasn't even sure how to define it herself.

They were more than friends yet less than lovers, for the moment anyway. The kisses that they had shared had been meaningful for both of them yet she knew that Horatio had so far had not been in an emotional position to act upon the feelings that they both had for each other.

"You are aware that fraternisation between superiors and their subordinates is against department policy, are you not?"

She refused to be reeled in by the smarmy young woman sitting before her.

"Yes, I am. Seeing as Horatio and I are friends and work colleagues I fail to see where your line of questioning is going."

"Some of your colleagues were overheard talking about your judgement or lack thereof during Lieutenant Caine's abduction. It seems that some of the members on your team felt your actions had been skewed by your more than professional feelings towards him."

"Bullshit. I would have done everything the same way for any member of our team."

"That remains to be seen, CSI Duquesne. Be assured that I will be talking to each of your colleagues in turn to assess whether your actions were justified."

"Go to Hell," she growled, finally letting some of the bitterness she felt towards the other woman show on her face.

If it fazed the IAB officer she didn't show it in her expression or her voice as she flipped through the pages in her file, seemingly unaffected by the open hostility that Calleigh was showing her.

"Just one last question, CSI Duquesne," she began as she looked up at her counterpart again. "If your judgements and actions were justified as you say they were, why did you physically assault Special Agent Richard Collins of the FBI?"

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 11 weeks ago:**

"Hey, Alexx," Calleigh said brightly as she walked towards Horatio's hospital room, trying to hide the fatigue from her features.

The redhead had been distant and depressed over the last week or so, even being transferred to a room on a regular ward had done nothing to raise his spirits. She began to lose hope that Horatio was ever going to pull himself out of the mire that he had become stuck in.

"Hey, sugar," the doctor replied, "How're you holding up?"

She blew a strand of long blond hair from her face before answering.

"Horatio's been so down lately; I don't know what to do for him. Nothing seems to make any difference at the moment."

The dejected look on Calleigh's face caught the doctor's attention; she leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially to her friend.

"I think I know something that might cheer him up," Alexx said mysteriously.

She was rewarded with a blank look from the other woman.

"It's about time we got our handsome redhead out of bed and out for a little walk, don't you think?"

"Are you sure, Alexx? I mean, is he ready for that?"

"Honey, three weeks stuck in a hospital bed would drive anyone crazy, let alone Mr Independence in there," she replied as she tilted her head towards the private room.

"Getting him up on his feet might be just the lift he needs to cheer him up a bit. At least, it can't hurt to try. Wanna come and give me a hand?"

She followed Alexx into the room and smiled at Horatio and found hers faltering as she saw the defeated look on his face.

"Hi, Handsome, how are you feeling today?" she asked brightly as she walked closer to him.

"Fine," he replied dully as he closed his eyes.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room for a number of minutes before Alexx began unclipping the drip connected to the redhead's right arm.

"What are you doing?" he asked suspiciously as he tried to move his arm away from her.

"You're getting your stubborn ass out of this bed today, Mister. How's about taking us lovely ladies for a guided tour around your room?"

Try as he might, he couldn't hide the shock or elation from his face as Alexx's words filtered through his brain. He suddenly felt overcome with a sense of hope that things might actually turn out to be ok in the long-run.

"Are you serious?" he asked with a sense of hope in his still-croaky voice.

"As a heart attack, honey," the doctor smiled back at him.

"Calleigh's going to give us a hand, are you ok with that?"

He nodded his head vigorously knowing that these would be the only two people he would choose or trust to be with him at this time.

After disconnecting various wires and tubes, the two women managed to get the weak and frail Horatio sitting upright on the side of his bed, holding onto him whilst he regained his equilibrium.

"How do you feel, sugar?" Alexx asked as she kept a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Dizzy," he replied honestly.

"Give it a minute, it'll pass. You've spent so long laying down that your body's forgotten what it feels like to be upright."

He nodded his head weakly as he tried not to projectile vomit in front of the two beautiful women before him.

A few moments passed before he motioned to them that he was ready to stand up. With a great amount of effort, and more than a little help from his friends, he had finally managed to get to his feet, his legs shaking wildly beneath him.

"How does it feel?"

"Strange, Alexx," he answered, rewarding his friend and former colleague with a genuine smile.

"Are you going to show us the sights?" Calleigh added as she gave his arm a light squeeze.

She too was rewarded with a beaming smile as the three of them spent time walking slowly but steadily around the hospital room.

He felt as if he had been standing and walking for hours but in reality it had only been a few minutes. Just as he was beginning to feel confident in his ability to put one foot in front of the other he found his sense of balance desert him as he began to fall forwards only to be caught by the strong hands on the two women by his side.

"I think that's enough excitement for today," Alexx gently chided as she and Calleigh guided the exhausted man back to his bed.

Between them they managed to get him settled and hooked back up to the tubes and wires, noticing the look of disappointment on his face as they did so. The doctor found her actions halted by a shaky hand on her wrist; she looked up into the crystal blue eyes of her friend.

"Now that I'm up and about, do you think that someone could take that…..thing out," he said as he pointed towards his groin, his face flushing a little with embarrassment.

"Honey, you've just gotten out of bed for the first time. I hardly think you're up to taking yourself to the toilet on your own."

"Please, Alexx," he pleaded as he gave her his most sincere look, "I promise that I'll call for a nurse to come and help me to the bathroom. I just want to get rid of as many of these damn tubes as I can."

He kept direct eye contact with her and she could feel her willpower draining away, the poor man had been through so much and today had seemed like the first time he had shown any sort of enthusiasm for his recovery or life in general. It was such a small, inconsequential thing for him to ask yet she knew it would mean the world to him if she agreed.

"Fine, you win," she smiled as she acquiesced to his wishes, lifting the bed sheet and reaching out towards his gown.

He recoiled as much as he could in the bed as he saw Alexx's hand snake towards his groin.

"When I said could you take it out, I didn't mean you," he squeaked as he tried to bat her hand away.

"Oh stop being such a baby, Horatio," she chided as she easily moved his good hand out of her way.

"I've seen more penises than you've solved cases, sugar. Trust me; you haven't got anything that I haven't seen before. Besides, this isn't the first time I've seen the junk you've got in your trunk."

Calleigh couldn't help but burst out in laughter as she saw the look on Horatio's face as he flushed a bright crimson. She felt tears of laughter escape from her eyes as she watched the scene with her two friends unfurl before her eyes and soon found herself needing to leave the room to get some fresh air.

Her good mood was instantly soured when she ran head-first into the tall, middle aged FBI agent standing in front of her.

"You," she spat as she took an involuntary step backwards.

"Good day to you too, Miss Duquesne," the balding man replied as he gave her an oily smile.

"What do you want, Collins?"

"I just came to express my good wishes to your colleague; I hear he's doing much better now."

"No thanks to you, you bastard."

"Now, now. I was hoping we could all be civil to one another, we are all on the same team after all."

"You're not welcome here, Collins. We don't need weasels like you."

"That's such a shame, I was hoping that I could talk your man into another job, I have a case that needs his expertise."

She knew that he was deliberately baiting her yet she couldn't resist the urge to give him a taste of his own medicine, it was no less than he deserved. She leant forward, getting closer to the suited figure with a sweet smile on her face before swiftly and brutally punching him straight in the stomach.

She smiled as he bent forwards, gasping for air.

"That was from the team," she said gleefully as she pulled him closer and kneed him with as much force as possible in the groin.

"And that was for Horatio."

The FBI agent fell to his knees as his hands went straight to his injured appendage as he held onto it in an effort to lessen the pain.

"If you ever come near him again, I promise that I'll kill you myself."

She felt inordinately satisfied at her own actions; it felt good to dish out a little just dessert to the cowardly Collins. He deserved much more than a quick knee in the groin but it was a start at least.

Her happiness was short lived as she heard the sound of an alarm and watched on in dismay as a number of nurses began running straight into Horatio's room.


	11. Chapter 11

Alexx watched Calleigh leave the room with her own amused expression as she set about removing the catheter from the redhead. She couldn't smother her smile as she heard Horatio groaning softly as she pulled on the sensitive tissue of his groin.

"Stop being such a drama queen," she teased as she concentrated on removing the tube without looking up at her reluctant patient.

It was only when the noise emanating from the man lying on the bed became more insistent and she felt his whole body tense that she became concerned. She frowned as she realised that the simple procedure should not be causing him this much discomfort.

Placing the equipment on the tray before her, she was alarmed to see the look of pain that was etched into Horatio's face and it immediately set alarm bells ringing in her head as he grabbed at his stomach with his good hand.

"Tell me what's wrong, sugar, "she prompted as she moved her hands to his abdomen.

The pain was excruciating as he slammed his eyes shut, unable to concentrate on anything except the pain coursing through his body. He groaned once more, much louder this time as he felt the urgent need to expel the contents of his stomach.

Alexx could tell by the look on his face what was about to happen and had the forethought to reach for the kidney dish and place it under his chin just in time. She almost dropped the dish in shock as she saw the vast amount of red liquid mingling with bile.

She felt him go limp in her arms and gently lowered him back down to the bed with one hand whilst thumping the call button with the other. Grabbing the stethoscope from around her neck, she placed it on the redhead's chest and listened for the sounds of his laboured breathing.

She had not had a chance to hook him back up to the monitors before he had taken a turn for the worse and so she was relying on old fashioned methods to give her a better idea of what was wrong with her patient.

Three nurses came bustling into the room, closely followed by Calleigh who stood in the corner watching on in a state of shock. She didn't have time right now to concentrate on anyone except Horatio.

She reached out with shaky hands as she palpated her friend's abdomen to confirm what she suspected was true, something had caused the internal bleeding to start again. As the nurses connected him back up to the monitors it was becoming clear to see that another visit to the operating room would be in order.

All of the medical staff took a step back as the unconscious man threw up once more, covering himself and the bed in a wave of blood and bile. They quickly turned him on his side and began suctioning the blood from his mouth and throat, trying to stop the injured man from choking on his own bodily fluids.

"We need to get him to the OR, stat," Alexx called out to her team as she kicked off the brake on the bed and rushed from the room, pushing the unconscious Horatio further away from Calleigh.

Hours must have passed before Horatio was finally transported back to his room, surrounded once more by tubes and wires. Calleigh felt her heart sink as she focused on his unconscious form from afar.

Kyle had joined her an hour or so previously, she had hated to be the one to tell him that his father had taken a turn for the worse. Everyone had been so sure that Horatio had made it through the worst of his injuries and that he was finally on the road to recovery.

It didn't seem fair that only a few short hours ago she had been helping Alexx support him with his first walk around his hospital room. The look of pure joy on his face as he clawed back a small semblance of independence had been the bright spot of what had been a draining and traumatic few weeks for everyone involved.

She had barely had time to rise from her chair before Kyle had accosted the haggard-looking doctor.

"Dr Woods, how is he?" he asked as he quickly moved over to her.

"He's had a setback but he's going to be ok, honey," she replied as she sat heavily on one of the chairs in the waiting area.

"What happened?"

"It seems as if we missed a small piece of the debris from the boat when we operated the first time. My best guess is that the amount of movement Horatio did today likely caused the fragment to move and pierce a major blood vessel in his stomach."

"But he'll be ok?" Calleigh asked quietly.

"We managed to remove the debris and close the wound, we'll keep a close eye on him for the next 48 hours but hopefully he'll be just fine. We got to the source of the bleeding before much damage could be done."

She regarded her friend and the young man in front of her sadly.

"He's going to be stuck in that bed again for a few more days and I doubt he's going to take that news well. It's important that we don't let him get downbeat about this, he needs to know that he's going to recover."

* * *

**Miami. Present day: **

Having decided to split the new evidence they had collected fifty/fifty, Eric and Horatio set about logging and processing their finds in companionable silence. The younger man kept stealing quick glances at his superior as he watched the way he deftly handled the trace that he held.

Both men were disturbed by a loud knocking at the door; Horatio gently put down his tweezers and regarded the man in front of him.

"Andy, what are you doing here?" he asked, surprised to find his former partner at the lab.

The stocky, balding man shuffled into the room as he ran a hand over his bushy moustache.

"I heard a rumour that there was a new lab geek in town, thought I'd come down and check it out for myself."

The redhead glanced down at the lab coat he was wearing and rolled his eyes at the older man.

"Nice coat," Andy quipped as he arched an eyebrow at Horatio.

The redhead fingered the lapels of the light grey lab coat as he adjusted it on his skinny frame.

"You think it looks good on me?" he asked playfully.

"No, I think you look like a dork."

The gruff New Yorker's blunt statement was enough to bring Horatio to ask what his old friend was doing in his part of town.

"Was there a reason for the visit, Andy, or did you just come to mock me?"

"A little of both if I'm honest. I was wondering if you were free for a coffee."

The question sent Horatio's heart racing, never in the entire time that he had known Andy Sipowicz had the man ever asked him out for 'just' a coffee. There was always some kind of ulterior motive for the older man wanting to spend time with him.

"I'm a little busy here, how about another time?"

He hoped Andy would take the hint and leave him alone, no doubt Calleigh had rung him this morning and asked him to come and have a friendly chat with him.

The portly man ignored the redhead's poor attempts at trying to wriggle out of the situation as he turned his attention to Eric who was standing the corner watching on in wry amusement.

"Hey, kid. Can I borrow Beaker here for a little while?"

The name made Eric break out into a large grin as he tried to stifle the laugh that the mental picture conjured.

"Sure, be my guest. I've got it covered here."

The look that Horatio shot him was one of pure betrayal as the redhead testily removed his lab coat and threw on the back of the chair he had been sitting on moments earlier. Eric carried on grinning as his superior shot him another dirty look before reluctantly following Andy out of the lab.

Both men walked in silence until they reached the local park, just a stone's throw away from the MDPD headquarters. After ordering two coffees they found a park bench and sat down, facing out towards the lush green scenery of the open ground ahead of them.

Andy spotted a scantily-clad Spring-breaker frolicking as one of her friends sprayed her with water from a toy pistol.

"Nice scenery. I can see why you like it here so much," he mused as he took a sip of his coffee.

Horatio refused to rise to the bait.

"What do you want, Andy?" he growled as he leant over, resting his arms in his knees.

"Can't a guy take his buddy out for a coffee anymore?"

"You've never taken me out for a coffee in the entire time that I've known you. What have you come here for?"

The older man sighed and realised that perhaps this wasn't going to be as simple as he thought.

"Your girlfriend rang me this morning," he eventually muttered.

"Girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend, Andy."

He was aware that his former partner's past experiences had served to make him more closed off than when he knew him back in New York but it didn't make it any easier to not lose patience with the stubborn fool.

"Fine. The blonde chick you've been banging for God knows how long," Andy corrected himself.

He found the Styrofoam cup knocked from his hand as the redhead turned on him violently, grabbing him by his jacket and pulling him close to his own snarling face.

"Easy, tiger," he joked as he held his hands up in surrender. Squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for the punch that he knew was surely coming.

He let out a sigh of relief as he felt himself being pushed back towards the bench, he cracked open his eyes to find that the other man had returned to the same wearied position he had adopted a few moments ago.

He straightened out his clothes and picked up the cup, which was now empty, and threw it in the trash bin beside him.

"They're worried about you, John."

"They shouldn't bother," the redhead muttered quietly.

"They care about you. _I _care about you."

"And I'll tell you like I told Calleigh, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

Andy's words caused him to flinch, was it really that obvious that he was barely holding it together?

"She said you're barely sleeping, hardly eating either."

He shot Andy a fearsome glare.

"Since when have you been worried about how much sleep I'm getting?"

"Because I can see it in your face, John. It's the same haunted look you had after you got jumped by the Malucci thugs. I never pushed you on it back then and I should have."

"It was none of your business then, just like it's none of your business now," Horatio growled as he gripped the coffee in his hands tighter.

"Look, I let you down back then. I'm sure as hell not going to make the same mistake twice."

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help, so just back off."

The tone that Horatio used signalled that the topic was not up for further discussion.

"You need to face up to what happened and deal with it. Pretending that everything is ok is not going to cut it, not this time."

"And what would you know?" Horatio shot back as his voice rose, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as other people in the park stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to the two men on the bench.

"A lot more than you think, John. I should know better than anyone that running away from your problems doesn't help."

"What are you accusing me of, Andy, being an alcoholic like you?"

Although the harsh words stung, the older man refused to be goaded into a fight with the man that he regarded as a son.

"You might not be hitting the bottle but I can tell that you're trying to find other ways of coping."

"Do enlighten me, Dr Freud," Horatio responded sarcastically.

"You're not taking care of yourself. I think you're doing it as a way to punish yourself for what happened."

The younger man looked at him but said nothing.

"What happened to you wasn't your fault, you have to believe that."

"Look at you, you've always been a streaky piece of piss at the best of times but the skin and bones look is not for you."

"What do you suggest then, Andy?"

"Let people take care of you. It's not fair to punish them too."

Andy sat back as he kept a watchful eye on the man sitting next to him, allowing his words to filter through into the man's stubborn head.

"Calleigh actually called you?"

"Yeah, she did. Believe me; no one was more surprised than I was to hear from her. She must really be worried about you."

"Look, John, as much as me and her don't get on it's clear to see that she likes you and you like her."

"And?"

"Do something about it. Stop pushing her away, God knows she'd probably come after you with a Glock if you did."

A small smile graced Horatio's face at the mental image of Calleigh charging after him, a gun in each hand as he tried to make good on his escape.

"I don't blame you for wanting to isolate yourself but trust me, it won't help. Take it from someone who knows better."

The conversation died out as the two men watched the world pass by for a while until Horatio stood quickly, placing his sunglasses back on his face.

"I'd better get back, Andy."

"Sure, I'll walk with you," the older man replied as he pushed his bulky frame off of the creaky wooden bench.

"I don't need an escort," Horatio sighed.

Andy shot him a deadpan expression.

"Humour an old guy; I never know when these rickety old knees are going to give out on me."

"Andy?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"Thanks."

"For what?"

Horatio smiled at the man who had come to mean so much to him, a man he thought he had lost so many years ago.

"Everything."

* * *

**A/N: For those of you who are not familiar with The Muppets, Beaker was a red-headed character who worked in a lab. I would recommend Googling him if you don't already know what he looks like :-)**


	12. Chapter 12

"It's thirty minutes past the end of your shift, I hope you two aren't planning to put in for overtime," Calleigh teased as she stood in the doorway of the Trace lab where Eric and Horatio had been for the entire duration of the afternoon.

"We're just finishing up, Cal," Eric replied with a grin on his face, "A couple more minutes and we'll be done."

"So, did you two find anything interesting back at the scene today?" she asked as she watched the two men set about packing away their tools and evidence away.

"We found some more blood drops with DNA that doesn't match either of the victims, plus a couple of fingerprints that we're running through AFIS. It's looking more like something other than a murder-suicide happened there."

"Good work, Eric," Calleigh responded as she gave him an encouraging smile.

He held his hands up in front of him.

"Don't look at me, H found them," he said as he pointed at the uncomfortable looking redhead in the corner who was doing everything in his power to look anywhere but at his two colleagues.

"Looks like you haven't lost your touch then, Handsome."

Horatio cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed by the praise that was being heaped upon him.

"Just doing my job, ma'am. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get changed," he croaked as he bolted stealthily from the room.

"How has he been, Eric?" she asked the tall Cuban after they had the room to themselves.

He let out a deep breath and gathered his thoughts before speaking.

"Well, there's nothing wrong with his investigative skills."

"You know that's not what I mean," she replied as her eyes bore into him.

"He's definitely quieter than usual, not that he was that talkative before. He still seems to think that everything is his fault, I might have got a bit frustrated with him back at the scene," he finished quietly.

"What happened?"

"I told him to deal with what happened and move on. I must sound like a right asshole, huh?"

She gave him a warm smile as she walked further towards him, placing an encouraging hand on his upper arm.

"Not at all, God knows he's not listening to me. The stubborn fool."

They both smiled at each other then, understanding that the complicated redhead could drive them to distraction more easily than anyone else they knew.

"Andy popped by to see him today."

"Really?" Calleigh replied, feigning innocence.

"You didn't have anything to do with that did you, Cal?" he asked with the hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she responded with a knowing smile before leaving the room.

He caught up with his brother in law in the changing room, just as the older man was placing his lab coat on a hanger and hanging it back in his locker.

"Thanks for your help today, H," he said as he shrugged his own lab coat off and hung it up.

The other man shrugged his shoulders.

"I didn't really do that much."

Eric bit back on a frustrated response, knowing that he needed to give Horatio time to come to terms with the emotions that returning to the lab had brought. The man was still so down on himself and it worried Eric that Horatio couldn't see what a positive effect he had on the people around him.

"The nightshift are gonna run our samples, you up to chasing down some new leads in the morning?" he asked instead.

The redhead gave him a small smile as he shrugged his suit jacket on before closing his locker door gently.

"Sure, brother. Why not."

He watched as Horatio walked towards the exit and was surprised when he spoke over his shoulder.

"Eric?"

"Yeah, H?"

"If you tell anyone that Andy called me Beaker I will hunt you down and kill you. Understood?"

He felt the smirk cross his face as he heard the subtle humour in his colleague's voice.

"Loud and clear, boss."

* * *

"Thank you for dinner, Calleigh, it was delicious," Horatio said as he wiped at his mouth with a napkin, offering the woman seated across from him a shy smile.

"You're welcome, Handsome, it was my pleasure. Have you got room for desert?"

He took a sip from his glass of water and avoided her gaze.

"I think I'm full, but thank you anyway."

She sighed as collected the plates, feeling an unwarranted sense of frustration building within her.

"You need to eat more; you've lost too much weight."

He placed the napkin down slowly as he looked up at her.

"I appreciate your concern, Calleigh, but I'm fine, really."

"But it's apple pie and ice cream. Would you try some, for me?"

She looked at him and kept eye contact until she could feel his resolve weaken as he sighed defeated and nodded his head in agreement.

"Andy came to see me today," he said as he admired her pert backside as she bent over to reach for the ice cream.

"Did he?" she asked innocently, keeping her head in the freezer.

"I thought you hated the man," he asked as she straightened up and took the pie from the oven.

It was true, she and Andy had never really hit it off and the more she knew of the man, the less she liked him. She tolerated him for Horatio's sake, knowing that the older man meant a lot to him and like it or not, he had been able to reach the stubborn redhead when the rest of them couldn't.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 10 weeks ago:**

"Hey, John," Andy smiled as he made his way into his former partner's hospital room, frowning as he saw the scowl marring the handsome man's face.

He threw a handful of magazines down in his friend's lap as he pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down heavily in it.

"I brought you these," he said, motioning to the motor vehicle and sports magazines lying on the other man's legs, "I thought you might be getting a bit bored by now. I did look in the hospital shop but they were all out of 'Lab Geek Weekly'."

The joke fell flat as the younger man continued to glare at him.

"How long are you going to carry this on for, John?" he asked with a frustrated sigh.

"Carry what on?" the redhead growled in response.

"Acting like a child," Andy replied evenly, knowing that his words would more than likely raise an angry response from the other man.

He would take John's anger over his self-pitying behaviour any day; it seemed as if the younger man had all but given up hope of getting better.

"What do you care, Andy?"

"I care because I'm your friend."

"Like you were twenty years ago?"

The words stung but he knew he deserved them.

"God knows I made a hell of a lot of mistakes back then, but I'm trying to make up for them now."

"Don't bother," the younger man muttered.

Try as he might, he couldn't hold back his frustration any longer as he shouted at the man in the bed.

"You think you're the only one that has been affected by this? Do you have any idea what your friends have been through, what Kyle's been through?"

"You don't understand, Andy. You've got no idea what they did to me," the younger man responded bitterly as he looked away.

"So you're just going to give up? After everything you've been through in your life, you're going to let some two-bit cowboys break you?"

"You don't understand," the redhead repeated, the fight vanishing from his voice.

"You're right, I don't. I don't understand what happened to the guy who risked everything to protect the people he loved. I don't understand why he's hiding in here like a child, refusing to fight."

"You're more than this, John. Don't let those punks win, stand up and fight like a man. Like the man I know you are."

A pair of distressed blue eyes caught his own; he couldn't mistake the sadness and desperation in them.

"What if I can't? What if I'm not the same man anymore?"

He reached out his arms and pulled the man he regarded as a son towards him, holding him as he felt the younger man's body shake as he quietly sobbed.

"We'll get through this, kid. I promise you."

* * *

**Present day, Miami:**

He had tried his best to take command of the kitchen and wash the dishes but Calleigh had been insistent that he kick off his shoes and relax on the couch in the lounge. He had to admit that it felt good to lay back and relax, the stress of the day taking more out of him than he had realised.

With eyes closed he held out a hand and felt the soft fur of a cat's body running itself over the palm of his hand.

"Good evening, Moses," he said quietly as he kept his eyes closed.

The black cat purred appreciatively in response as it crawled onto his lap and made himself comfortable.

Calleigh smiled at the picture before her, glad to see that Horatio had finally relaxed after what had been a particularly taxing day. She smiled as she watched the young cat crawl into his lap and lay down to sleep, the two of them made quite a pair.

She had woken early one morning last week to find a straggly and rather wet-looking creature sitting on her back porch, mewing quietly as it licked the dampness from its paws. Her heart melted as she looked at it, the poor cat looked abandoned and unloved.

She opened the sliding door quietly; afraid of scaring the small animal away but was pleasantly surprised when it stayed where it was, looking up at her with its head cocked to one side.

The movement reminded her immediately of the man still fast asleep in her bed, the similarity between the two of them was astonishing.

"Well hello there, kitty," she said as she bent down to stroke him, smiling as it wound its way through her legs.

She reached out a hand to check for a collar or tags, trying to ascertain whether the animal was lost or had genuinely been abandoned. It was during her search of its body that she found the nasty-looking wound on its back, wincing as her hand touched the open wound which looked as if it was starting to become infected.

She took pity on the poor animal and picked it up before shutting the sliding door behind her. Placing the cat down on the kitchen floor she searched her cupboards for a suitable bowl before filling it with milk from the refrigerator.

"There you go," she said as she placed the bowl on the floor, smiling when the cat let out a small meow of gratitude.

Horatio's smoky voice caught her off guard as he watched her from the corner of the room.

"You're making a habit of taking in waifs and strays, Calleigh," he admonished lightly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"He looks abandoned, Horatio. And he's injured, can we keep him?"

He laughed lightly at her question.

"It's your house, beautiful," he said as he shrugged his shoulders.

The cat seemed to notice the new presence in the room and made its way over to the redhead, once again winding its way through the human's legs.

"I think he likes you," Calleigh suggested.

"That's because he doesn't know me yet," he responded quietly.

After a trip to the vets and a course of antibiotics, Moses the cat seemed to be nearing full health once more. It certainly didn't hurt that he was now being fed two square meals a day. Calleigh had had half expected the feline creature to go on its merry way and was pleasantly surprised when it had stayed and made itself at home in her house.

At least Moses had done Horatio some good, when she struggled to get through to the stubborn man and make him see sense the cat would invariably be able to twist him round his finger, wheedling his way into the his human companion's affections and calming him when things were starting to become too much.

Horatio's eyes shot open as he heard the familiar ringing of his phone, sitting up and depositing the cat beside him on the couch, he reached into his pants pocket and looked at the display before answering.

"Kyle," he said as he gave Calleigh a brief glance and headed towards the stairs.

She sat on the couch with Moses, absent-mindedly stroking the cat's fur as she thought back on the day. It certainly hadn't started that well with Horatio once more convincing himself that everyone would be better off without him. It had taken a lot for her to call Andy, a man that she had little time for, but her concern for Horatio outweighed her dislike of the gruff man.

The visit from Sargent Craig had done nothing to lift her foul mood either, it was clear that the by-the-books IAB officer was looking for nothing more than a scapegoat and Calleigh was determined that it would be neither her, nor Horatio's head that would roll.

She only hoped that Sargent Craig did not get hold of Horatio anytime soon, she knew he was not in a position to defend himself adequately, still stuck in the mire of his negative emotions as he was. He would likely agree with whatever Sargent Craig threw at him if it meant that the rest of his team was spared any of the fallout from the Malucci debacle.

Time seemed to run away with her and her thoughts, the clock had ticked round to ten p.m. before she had even realised it. It occurred to her that Horatio had been upstairs alone for over an hour and she had not heard a sound or any movement in that time.

She made her way up the stairs cautiously and opened her bedroom door, surprised to find Horatio's clothes hanging neatly on the back of the chair by her dresser. She smiled as she saw him asleep, lying on his side on his favoured side of her bed.

_Our bed, _she told herself with a smile.

She set about getting ready for bed herself, realising that she was much more tired than she thought. Changing into a cropped t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts she crawled in behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest, smiling as he kissed her hand sleepily.

"Sorry for waking you," she whispered as she placed a soft kiss on his shoulder.

"It's ok," he responded as he turned around to face her, pulling her closer to his own body, "I couldn't really sleep knowing that you weren't in the bed with me."

She leant closer to his face, hoping that he wouldn't pull away as she began kissing him, slowly and gently at first, then more passionately as his body responded to her ministrations.

Feeling more confident she ran a hand down his chest lightly and smiling as he groaned in response until her hand finally found his groin. Feeling the fabric of his boxers she massaged him gently until his hand quickly found hers and pulled it away.

"Please, Calleigh," he pleaded as he opened his eyes and looked at her desperately.

"Let me love you, Horatio," she responded, her eyes radiating sincerity as she placed her hand back on his groin.

He screwed his eyes shut as he felt her hand on him once more, groaning softly as his body responded to her touch.

"I'm not sure I can do this," he said in a shaky voice.

"Then let me do all the work," she responded as she climbed onto his lap, kissing the scars on his arms and chest.

He knew what they were doing was wrong yet he felt himself helpless against her soft, warm hands roaming his damaged and scarred body. His resolve weakening as she continued her passionate assault of him and took him closer to the abyss with each of her feather-light touches on his heated skin.


	13. Chapter 13

_ He could feel their hands on him, hitting him, pushing him from one to the other as he struggled to stay on his feet. It wasn't long until he lost his balance and ended up face first on the floor._

_He could hear them laughing at him as he struggled to free his injured arm from under his heavy body. Cringing as he heard the voices getting louder and the boots coming closer to him._

_He was defenceless against them as he tried to absorb the stamping and kicking as much as he could, willing himself not to make a sound as they continued to abuse him._

_His body seemed as if it was on fire as he felt them touch him, he couldn't bear for anyone to make contact with his over-sensitised skin. He curled himself into a ball as they came for him, again and again._

He opened his eyes quickly and found Calleigh staring down at him, a look of concern marring her beautiful face. It was only when he followed her eyes down to his groin that he realised what had happened.

He felt the sense of sheer shame wash over him as the realisation hit him; the vivid memories from his ordeal had caused him to fail Calleigh as a man. He felt horrified that he had embarrassed himself in front of the one woman who meant more than anything to him.

Pushing her roughly off of his unresponsive lap, he quickly scrambled from the bed towards the clothes he had been wearing earlier in the day. Pulling his pants and shirt on and doing them up in a haphazard fashion. He could hear her pleading with him to stop yet he continued on blindly in his single-minded quest to bolt from her presence as quickly as possible.

Racing down the stairs, he pulled on the first pair of shoes he could find and grabbed his keys before slamming the front door behind him and setting off down the driveway towards the road that led away from Calleigh, away from the house that he had begun to call home.

The hot, salty tears streamed from his eyes as he kept a furious pace along the deserted streets, wiping roughly at his face when his vision began to blur. In all of his sorry life he had never felt this ashamed of himself.

The men that had tortured and brutalised him had done more than just break his bones, they had broken his spirit too. A part of him wished that the team had left him to die out at sea, the man who had returned was not the man they knew or the man they deserved.

He was nothing but a pale imitation of himself, unable to maintain any sort of meaningful relationship with anyone. He knew that they could see behind the weak façade he had built around himself, they knew he was no longer a man they could depend on; he was becoming a liability to them.

Hatred flowed through him at his own complete inability to function as a normal, healthy man. Anyone in their right mind would have responded in kind to Calleigh's fervent assault on his body yet he himself was unable to give her what she wanted, what she deserved.

There had been many times over the past few months that she had told him that they would take it slow and that there was no rush for them to progress their relationship to the next level, but how long would it be before she tired of his pitiful existence?

She deserved to be loved by a man who could fulfil her carnal desires, not some weak and snivelling wreck who could hardly bear to be touched. It was no life for her, she deserved more, she deserved better than him.

He continued to wander in a anger-fuelled haze as he stomped his way through the less than respectable neighbourhoods of downtown Miami, he could see the looks the thugs on the street corners were giving him and yet couldn't seem to find a reason to care if they took it upon themselves to dish out a little of their own brand of justice on him.

* * *

She woke suddenly as the alarm on the bedside table made its presence known, groaning as she read the display. It had only been an hour or so ago that she had fallen into a worried and exhausted sleep, giving up hope that Horatio would ever return home to her after what had happened the previous evening.

Her first intention was to follow him as he bolted from the house, an idea that was only tempered by Alexx's warning words to her earlier in the day that Horatio was a proud and independent man. He needed time to cool off and come to his senses; to have her badgering him would only make the situation worse.

So she sat and waited, waiting all night until the need for sleep overcame her and she slumped towards the inviting presence of her soft pillows, praying that no harm had come to the man she loved.

Deciding to forgo a shower until she had administered her first dose of caffeine, she made her way downstairs and into the kitchen, frowning when Moses was nowhere to be seen. Taking the milk from the refrigerator, she poured a bowl of milk and placed it on the floor.

Worry began to gnaw at her senses; making her way over to the lounge she was surprised to find a clothed figure asleep on the couch, the ratty old woollen blanket she kept on the back of it covering the slumbering form.

She let out a deep breath, relieved that Horatio had made it back home in one piece. She had seen just how shaken he had been by the incident last night and the longer he stayed out the more she became convinced that he would do something reckless to himself.

Moses seemed to have heard her enter the room as his small black head poked out from beneath the blanket as he regarded her with bright green eyes. The sight of the scrawny cat curled up protectively under the redhead's arm would have been funny had she not been so furious.

"Good boy, Moses," she said quietly as she walked closer to the couch.

The cat meowed in response, a noise that served to wake the slumbering man.

"Calleigh?" he groaned as he rubbed at his eyes first and then his neck.

"Where have you been?" she asked with more force than she was intending, causing Moses to make good on his escape and head for the kitchen in search of his breakfast.

Horatio sat up straight and threw the blanket to one side as he glanced down at his rumpled shirt and pants, realising that he still had his shoes on.

"I needed some air," he said vaguely as he ran a hand through his unruly hair.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?"

He looked at her briefly and had the good grace to look slightly ashamed.

"Where have you been? What time did you come back?"

"I'm sorry, Calleigh, I just needed some space. I went for a walk, that's all."

He gave her such a pitiful look that she had to take a moment to remind herself why he had run from the house. He had already had so much emotional fallout to deal with and it appeared that his inability to function sexually had all but blown away the little reserves of strength that they had worked so hard to build up.

Her facial features and tone softened as she sat next to him on the couch, reaching out a shaky hand and placing it on his thigh.

"Why didn't you come back to bed?"

He shrugged.

"It was late; I didn't want to wake you."

"I barely slept; I was so worried that something had happened to you."

He placed a hand on top of hers and gave it a quick squeeze.

"Moses took good care of me when I came back, I'm sorry that I worried you. I'm sorry that I failed you, too."

"Horatio, what happened last night was my fault. I shouldn't have pushed you when I knew that you weren't ready."

"Calleigh," he began patiently, "It was my fault, I'm sorry that I couldn't satisfy you. You deserved to be loved by a man who can fulfil your deepest desires, not some crocked old fool like me."

"But I want you, I want to be loved by you," she pleaded with him as she tried to make him see sense.

"Believe me, I want nothing more than to be able to give you what you want, but I can't. I'm damaged goods, Calleigh, can't you see that?"

"I can wait; I don't care how long it takes. We'll wait until you're ready."

"What if I'm never ready? What if I can never love you the way you want me to? The way I want to love you?"

He shook his head sadly as she watched the familiar slump of his shoulders as he trudged from the room and away from her.


	14. Chapter 14

Following him into the kitchen, she was glad to see that at least Moses could still get through to him as she watched him fuss the black cat who has greedily lapping up the attention his new owner was lavishing on him.

He straightened to his full height as he heard her enter the room and stood stiffly by the counter, watching her with wary eyes.

"We need to talk about this, Horatio," she began as she walked closer towards him and frowned when he tried to put further distance between them.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'd rather just forget the whole thing happened."

"Fine, then maybe you should talk to someone else about how you're feeling," she responded as she felt an unjustified sense of frustration building within her.

"No," he responded firmly as his eyes shot up to meet hers.

"Horatio, you're not coping. You need to talk to someone to try and get past this."

She watched as the emotions flitted across his face, first shock which soon turned into righteous anger.

"I am coping; I don't need to _talk _to anyone about how I'm feeling. I just want people to leave me alone and stop badgering me!"

"I've tried to stand back and watch you come to terms with this but it's not happening. You need to let it go, Horatio."

"I don't need to do anything," he growled, his voice dangerously low as the muscles in his cheeks twitched with barely controlled rage.

She could feel her own anger grow in turn with his as she slammed a coffee cup down, causing Moses to hide under the table as he continued to watch the scene unfold in front of him warily.

"So this is how you're going to live the rest of your life? Shutting yourself off from the people who care about you?"

"If that's what it takes," he replied evenly.

"Maybe Andy was right about you; maybe you do run away and hide when things get too tough."

She let out a gasp of shock as she realised what she had said. She felt her heart shatter into tiny pieces as she saw the look of hurt that crossed his handsome features.

He stood stock still for a number of moments before shaking himself from his stupor, stalking from the room he grabbed his keys and made his way to the front door, slamming it behind him in much the same way he had the night before.

Tears fell from her eyes as she sat heavily on the kitchen chair closest to her. In all of the weeks previous she had never spoken to him so coldly and it shook her that she could be capable of saying something so callous towards him and she had no idea how she could ever make things right between them again.

With a heavy heart, she collected her cell phone and rang a familiar number, praying that the other person would answer straight away. She couldn't hide the relief from her voice as they picked up after the second ring.

"Alexx, thank God," she let out in a breathy whisper

The doctor could hear the worry in her voice.

"What's the matter, sugar? Has something happened to Horatio?"

She felt the tears brimming in her eyes once more.

"Oh God, Alexx. I hurt him, I hurt him so badly," she sobbed.

"He's gone," she added quietly.

Alexx struggled to make sense of the stuttering jumble of words spilling from her friend's mouth and knew that she needed to take control of the situation before it got out of hand.

"Just start at the beginning, sugar," she crooned as she encouraged Calleigh to begin.

* * *

The emotional wounds that Calleigh had inflicted on him still felt open and raw as he handed a $20 bill to the cab driver and made his way to the front of the crime lab building. Perhaps she had been right; he'd hardly been open and honest with those around him yet alone himself.

He had been barely holding himself together since he'd woken in the hospital. His mind was a jumbled mess of memories and emotions from the past as he struggled to make sense of them and put them into any kind of order. He simply felt lost; unsure as to whom he was anymore. He was no longer John Kelly but not Horatio Caine either. The two sides of him had been brought together with violent force and had left him in state of extreme uncertainty.

It was foolish, but he hoped that he would just be able to forget about his ordeal at the hands of the Malucci's, to block out what they had done to him and move on in much the same way he had when he left New York.

It had taken him years to come to any sort of peace with his past back then and there were times when the memories would rear their ugly heads and make their presence known when he least expected it. It had changed him as a person, something that he was painfully aware of. He had retreated within himself in order to protect his past and the people he loved; he had distanced himself, never letting anyone get too close for fear of losing them too.

And so he would be forced to change again, even though he didn't want to. He would have given anything to take Calleigh in his arms and love her in the way she deserved yet the demons from his past prevented him from being able to satisfy her. He had never felt less of a man than he did right now. Calleigh and Andy were right, he was weak and cowardly.

"Hey, H!" Ryan greeted him brightly as he met him on the steps outside the crime lab building.

"Mr Wolfe," he replied as he gazed into the distance.

"Didn't expect to see you here so early, where's Cal?"

The young CSI caught the pained look on his superior's face as the redhead winced slightly.

"She's…making her own way in today."

Ryan knew better than to get involved in the complicated personal lives of his colleagues, it seemed to be an unwritten rule within the team that they would not question each other on such delicate subjects unless it interfered with their professional commitment to the lab.

He didn't give Ryan a chance to say anything else as he deftly slipped away and made his way into the building, heading straight to the Trace lab and hoping to avoid anyone else on his way in.

The phone began to vibrate in his pocket, he pulled it out with a sigh and looked at the caller ID, half expecting it to be Calleigh, and he was only slightly less disappointed to find that it was Alexx calling him instead.

"Horatio Caine," Alexx began before he'd barely had time to say hello.

"Alexx," he replied patiently.

"You and I need to sit down and have a serious conversation, sugar."

He paused briefly.

"You've been talking to Calleigh."

"Damn right I have. Do you have any idea how upset she is right now?"

He winced visibly as he prepared himself for the tirade that was to come.

"She told you what happened last night I take it," he muttered before adding, "She had no right to do that."

"How long are you going to carry on doing this?"

"Doing what, Alexx?" he asked, feigning innocence as his irritation at yet another person trying to interfere with his life built within him.

"Pretending like nothing's wrong!"

"Alexx…"

"No sugar, not this time. I'm not going to stand back and watch you throw your life away because of what those animals did to you. You're going to face up to this and then put it behind you before it eats you up completely."

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"And how exactly do I do that?"

"I've made you an appointment with an old friend of mine. If you won't talk to your friends then maybe you'll talk to him."

He blanched visibly at her words.

"I'm not going to talk to some kind of...shrink," he spluttered.

"You are and you will. You don't get a choice in this, Horatio."

"You can't make me."

His response sounded childish and petulant even to his own ears.

"Watch me, sugar."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 10 weeks ago:**

Pushing the plate of barely edible food away from him he groaned in frustration as he found the walls of his hospital room closing in on him once more.

The brightness of the lights had been increased for the second time in as many days and although he was able to tolerate it better than he had before he still found his progress achingly slow.

_What progress?_ he muttered to himself as he threw his head back in frustration before wincing at the pain his hasty movement caused.

He was getting sick of this, sick of waiting on others to tend to his every need. His left arm was fitted with plates and pins and a garish cast covered it up to his elbow. It had left his arm cumbersome and heavy and of little use to him.

The shame at having to rely on another person to cut his food, shave him or help him to the toilet ate away at the small amount of pride that he had left and the small sense of hope he would ever leave this Godforsaken place grew dimmer by the day.

"You need to eat up, sugar," a soft voice spoke from the doorway.

He didn't need to glance up to know the owner.

"I'm not hungry."

"Horatio," she began, trying to make him see reason, "You need to build your strength up if you ever hope to get out of here anytime soon."

"Why bother?" he sighed as he risked a brief glance at her.

"I'm never going to get out of here."

"Of course you are, the Horatio Caine I know never backed down from a fight."

And that was it in a nutshell; he had no idea if he was the same man anymore. Too many things had changed, could he ever go back to the way things were?

"I'm not who you think I am, not anymore," he responded, his voice barely a whisper.

She moved quickly to his side, covering the short distance from one end of the room to the other.

"You've been through Hell, we all know that. You've been so badly injured and God knows that we've pumped you full of enough drugs, you're just going through a rough patch."

"Stop lying to me, Alexx. You've always been honest with me; it's the one thing that I treasure more than anything about our friendship."

They sat staring at each other for a number of moments until Alexx broke the silence by picking up the knife and fork as she set about cutting the food up on the plate.

"What are you doing?" he asked warily as he watched her fill the fork with food.

"I'm feeding you," she replied with a bright smile, it faltered as he tried to move further up the bed and away from her.

"No you're not."

"Fine, you either feed yourself or I'll do it for you. Either way, I'm not leaving this room until you've cleared that plate."

His gaze travelled from his friend and then to the plate and back again. He knew that there would be no way he could match her in a battle of wits in his weakened state. It was also one of the things he loved about her, she had never been afraid to call him out on his bullshit and her refreshing honesty was something he admired the most about her.

He picked up the fork with a sigh and threw dirty looks at her as he slowly went about eating the bland-tasting food on his plate, arching an eyebrow at her as he placed the fork back down on the empty plate.

"Happy now?" he grumbled as he pushed the tray away.

"Ecstatic, sugar," she replied triumphantly.

There was no way that she was going to let her beloved friend sink away into a pit of despair and misery, not if she could help it anyway. No matter how much he resisted her, she would drag him out of the mire kicking and screaming if she had to.

She made her way to the door and was about to leave when she stopped suddenly and regarded the stubborn man in front of her.

"Get some rest, honey. Tomorrow we're gonna start getting you back on your feet so I can kick your scrawny backside out of here, understood?"

He gave her a shy smile before dropping his head back to the pillows, wondering what he had done to deserve such a good group of people around him. For all of his self-pitying behaviour they had never once wavered in their support of him. Each time he felt the pull of despair one of them would hold their hand out to him so that he could drag his head back above water.

He doubted that their faith in him was justified and it unnerved him more than he thought it would to think of failing them. He owed it to them at least to try.


	15. Chapter 15

**Present day. Miami:**

Looking down at his rumpled shirt and suit he realised that he was wearing the same clothes he came to work in the day before. He had half expected Ryan to point this glaring error out but if the young man noticed he said nothing.

With a quick glance at his watch he decided that he should have enough time to use the shower facilities in the department changing room. He made his way there hastily, hoping that he wouldn't bump into anyone on the way there who would question why he was still wearing yesterday's clothes.

Turning the combination on his locker he opened it and smiled when he saw the freshly laundered suit that hung inside.

_Calleigh, _he thought with a smile, his countenance only darkening when he replayed their last conversation over in his mind.

He had proved her assessment of him correct when he stormed out of her kitchen this morning; he had acted like a child after being told something that he didn't want to hear. He castigated himself for his selfish behaviour and vowed to clear the air with her later in the day.

Although her stinging words had cut into him like a knife, he could not deny the fact that they were true. He was running away, trying to distance himself from his ordeal and the past that had come back to haunt him so terribly. Blocking out the pain and trauma was simply not working anymore and he was unlikely to outrun his demons any time soon.

Once more Alexx had reached out to him when he felt that he had all but given up, her staunch belief that he would recover was one of the main things that had kept him going through those dark days. Each time his confidence was knocked she would refuse to let him give into his self-pity and misery.

_Alexx never was one to suffer fools gladly, _he thought to himself with a wry smile.

He never had been able to pull the wool over her eyes and she had never been intimidated by his powerful glare. In all the years he had known her he had never been able to fool her about anything. He smiled to himself as he realised that Alexx had the enviable ability to see through him as if he were transparent and he wondered what he had done to deserve such a loyal and steadfast friend.

Halfway through the process of getting dressed after showering, he was taken by surprise when Natalia bustled into the room, her long dark hair flowing and framing her beautiful face.

She was unable to hide the gasp of shock as her gaze centred solely on his scarred chest before quickly averting her eyes and attempting to apologise.

"I'm so sorry, Horatio, I should have knocked," she said as a small amount of colour returned to her face.

"It's fine," he told her as he attempted to do up the buttons on his shirt before hastily tucking them into his pants and making a grab for the suit jacket in his locker.

"I'm sorry that you had to see that," he added quietly as he made his way toward the door, hoping that Natalia wouldn't look at him with those pitying eyes again.

"I'm so sorry, Horatio. I'm so sorry for what they did to you."

He turned his head to look over his shoulder and gave her a sad smile.

"These things happen, Natalia. It's best just to accept them and move on."

_Fraud! _his subconscious shouted at him as he left the room and made his way down the corridor.

How on earth could he think that he had the right to tell Natalia that it was best to move on when he couldn't even do it himself?

He could feel the walls close in around him as he heard the voices of his friends and colleagues, begging with him to open up and talk to them about what he had been through. He had wanted to, but the simple truth was that he simply couldn't do it; he couldn't bear to place any more emotional burden on them than he already had.

He had held Calleigh in his arms these past few months and was fully aware that she was not spared from demons haunting her dreams either and he told himself that the last thing she needed was more horror stories to keep her awake at night.

A part of him also feared that they would think less of him as a man for admitting what his abductors did to him. He didn't want to look into the faces of the people he cared about or worked with and find them looking at him with concern or pity. Image was everything when you were trusted with leading a team; they needed to have a belief and faith in him that he was strong and invincible, not some pale imitation of a man treading water.

The incident with Calleigh last night had proved how badly he was coping; it had reached the stage where it was affecting his ability to function sexually, something that he had never had a problem with at any point in his life before. He had always prided himself on being a masculine and virile man and to fail so badly on both counts had shaken him on a much deeper level than he had originally thought.

Maybe they were all right, he just didn't want to admit it to himself or them, he wanted to hold onto the one small piece of dignity that he had left.

Without even realising it, he had found his way to the Trace lab where Eric was already waiting for him.

"Hey, H. Good evening yesterday?"

A scowl crossed his features at the innocent question before he schooled them into a fake smile.

"No more interesting than usual," he lied as he avoided the younger man's gaze.

"How about you, brother?"

He raised an eyebrow at the smile Eric gave him, throwing him a questioning look.

"Funny you should ask that, I had the most interesting evening with your old partner last night."

* * *

**Flashback. Yesterday evening:**

"Here we are," Eric grinned as he pulled the car up outside the most expensive and exclusive steak restaurant in Miami.

"Jeez, how much do they pay you CSI-types down here?" Andy muttered as he took in the opulent décor as they made their way inside and were shown to a table.

"I can't afford this place on my salary, believe me," the younger man replied amiably.

"Seems like the least I can do for you, after everything you've done to help Horatio."

Andy suddenly felt uncomfortable with the praise that was being foisted upon him. All he had really done was let John down, deserted him when he needed him the most and then dragged his name through the mud in the years following.

Ever since he had discovered the truth about his former partner's past he had done everything he could to try to repair some of the damage he had caused to their fractured relationship. He knew he still had a long way to go before he could ever say that he had atoned for his past transgressions but making a new life for himself here in Miami where he could keep an eye on the man he considered a surrogate son was a good enough place to start.

After ordering their drinks the two men settled into a comfortable conversation about their day.

"How's John coped with his first day back?" Andy asked as he took a sip of his club soda.

Eric pursed his lips as he considered his response.

"He certainly hasn't lost the knack of being a damn good investigator that's for sure."

Years of being a cop had taught Andy to know when someone was holding back on him.

"But?"

The younger man took a deep breath before replying, hoping that he wasn't betraying his brother in law's confidence.

"He's saying all the right words and doing all the right things but it just seems as if something is missing him."

"How do you mean?"

"I don't know, it just seems as if his drive and passion for the job have gone. I'm worried that it'll never come back."

Andy could see the concern for the redhead in Eric's eyes as they met with his own.

"John's a tough bastard. I know he'll pull through this if we stick with him."

His well-meaning words seemed to have little effect on the younger man.

"Give him time, Eric. He needs to get his head around all of this, he's a smart guy, he'll work it out."

Eric returned his small smile with one of his own even though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Andy?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, kid?"

"Tell me something about when you worked with Horatio in New York. I'd like to know what he was like back then."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1989:**

Andy held his pounding head tenderly as he rested it against the cool wooden surface of his desk. The squad room of the 15th precinct was unusually busy for a mid-week morning with detectives and uniformed officers hustling and bustling their way through the cramped space.

It also didn't help that it was an unseasonably warm spring day in Manhattan, the noise, heat and the smells created by a roomful of people did nothing for his already queasy stomach as he willed the nausea back down into the pit of his roiling stomach.

Last night had passed in much of a blur as he once again found himself waking fully clothed on his bed with an empty bottle of vodka beside him. Alcohol had become his most faithful friend through the last few years as his marriage fell apart and his teenage son grew to hate him for the drunken waste of space that he was.

He was simply getting far too old to carry on like this and to see his youthful and vibrant new partner bound around the squad room like a puppy let of its leash did nothing to lessen the irritation that was building inside him.

He had disliked the brash and slightly cocky John Kelly the first time he'd met him, deciding that the fresh-out-of-uniform young upstart had a lot to learn about being a detective. It gnawed at him then to discover that his new partner was eager and willing to learn from his more seasoned colleague, and that he had a natural affinity for the job.

It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Andy, John Kelly was a typical second generation cop, and the legacy of his father had become somewhat legend around the NYPD. The hair colour might have been different but in every other way he was most definitely his father's son.

"Andy, the ADA is here to talk to us about the Harper robbery. Do you wanna take it?" his bouncy young partner asked him as he sat across the desk from him, smoothing his tie down as he sat and looking at him expectantly.

"I've got a bit of a headache, kid," he winced as he placed a hand on his forehead.

"Too much to drink again last night?"

His partner looked at him innocently but he couldn't hold back on the anger that built within him, matching the throbbing in his sore head.

"Do one, John, before I smack that stupid look off your face."

The younger man looked momentarily taken aback before brushing the comment off casually, gradually becoming immune to his new partner not exactly being a morning person.

"I'll go talk to her then," he smiled at Andy, knowing that it would goad him.

Loosening the tie slightly around his neck, he made his way over to the smartly dressed young woman who was standing by the gate, waiting patiently to be let in. One look at her and he could instantly see that she was cute, with her shoulder-length brown hair and dazzling green eyes. The detective in him made him glance down to her left hand and he was relieved to see that she was not wearing a wedding ring.

Pushing through the thigh-high gate he held a hand out to her and gave her one of what he hoped was his most winning smiles.

"Hi, I'm Detective Kelly."

She glanced at his hand before taking it in her own and shaking it.

"ADA Laura Michaels, pleased to meet you."


	16. Chapter 16

**Miami, Yesterday evening:**

"Laura?" Eric questioned as he cut into his steak, "That was the name of his first wife wasn't it?"

"Sure was, kid," Andy replied around a mouthful of food.

"How do you know that?" the older man asked a few moments later.

"Horatio kept mumbling her name when I went to visit him in hospital one day."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 9 weeks ago:**

Eric entered the hospital with a renewed sense of hope; Calleigh had rung him earlier in the day and updated him on the progress of his brother in law. She had told him, gleefully how Horatio had made it out of his bed and managed to take a short walk around his room with some physical assistance. It was even better news that his short trip had not resulted in another setback as it had done the last time Alexx had attempted to get him up and moving.

He knew first-hand how frustrating it was being confined to a hospital bed, forced to rely on other people to tend to your needs and it had to be all the more galling for a man as strong and independent as Horatio.

He certainly felt sympathy for the man, his colleague's mood had shifted from despair and pity to frustration and anger as his weakened body continued to fail him leaving him in a hole so deep he wasn't sure that he would ever return from it.

He had learnt quickly not to take Horatio's foul mood or fierce glares personally each time he visited him, it was just the other man's way of pushing people away so that he could brood on his own in silence. He took Horatio's anger in his stride as he refused to let the stubborn man push him away when he needed him the most. He knew in the end it would be Horatio's stubbornness and inability to give in that would inevitably see him recover from his horrific ordeal.

"Hey, sugar," a warm voice called from across the hall.

His face lit up with a genuine smile when he saw her standing a few feet away from him.

"Alexx, how are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. Horatio's been keeping me on my toes today," she smiled back as she pulled Eric to her and gave him a hug.

The sentence immediately sent Eric's imagination into overdrive.

"He's ok, isn't he?" he asked concerned.

"He's absolutely fine, honey, don't worry. He's been up and about doing a few laps of his room earlier today."

He smiled at the mental image Alexx's words conjured.

"Yeah, Calleigh told me you got him out of bed today. How'd he handle it?"

"With his usual infuriating stubbornness," the doctor replied tartly.

"I told him he could do a couple of laps round the room but you know what he's like, insisting that he pushes himself harder than his body can handle."

"But that's good, right? At least he's showing a bit more enthusiasm than he has recently."

"It is good, sugar. I just don't want him pushing himself too far and taking a few steps backwards again."

The look between the two friends spoke volumes. The unexpected repercussions of Horatio's last attempt to leave his hospital bed had ended up with him back in the operating room for emergency surgery to rectify the internal bleeding that his movements had caused.

He had been the first person Horatio had seen since he'd regained consciousness from the surgery and the look on his face was one that he was not likely to forget in a hurry. In all of the years that he had known him, he had never seen Horatio look so defeated, as the dulled blue eyes scanned his own body and saw the tubes and wires had returned.

He, along with Calleigh, Kyle and Andy had tried their best to pull him out of the depressed state he had fallen into but to no real avail. Horatio was surly and dismissive at best as they came to visit him regularly and on more than one occasion had shouted at them to get out.

It had taken almost a week but they had finally gotten Horatio strong enough to make another attempt at rising from the bed that had held him prisoner for so long, and this time it seemed to be a positive step forwards.

"I have to warn you, honey, he's probably fast asleep in there. He pushed himself pretty hard earlier and the pain meds are still doing a number on him. He'll likely sleep the rest of the day away."

"Can I go and sit with him anyway, I wanna feel like I'm actually doing something, you know?"

She smiled sweetly at him as she placed a hand on his bicep and gave it a light squeeze.

"You've done a hell of a lot already, Eric. You and Calleigh have been holding everything together these last few weeks. At least Horatio knows that he'll have a lab to go back to."

"You think he'll come back?" Eric asked doubtfully, surprising himself with the question too.

"I don't doubt it for one second. That job is his life; I don't think he'd be happy doing anything else."

Alexx looked at her watch and gave him an apologetic smile.

"Duty calls, sugar. I 'll be around if you need me."

He made his way into Horatio's hospital room and shut the door quietly behind him, letting out a deep breath when he was certain that he had not woken the other man. Sitting down in the chair beside the bed he was content to watch him sleep.

Horatio appeared to be sleeping soundly, the slumbering man's head turned to the left with a somewhat peaceful look on his face. It was a sight that warmed Eric's heart, Horatio had seemed to have a permanent frown etched into his worn and haggard features recently and it pained him that there was nothing he could do to ease the other man's suffering, all he could do was stand back and watch helplessly.

He sat and watched his close friend and colleague sleep for what seemed like hours and he could feel his own eyes becoming heavy, even the bitter-tasting coffee from the hospital vending machine could not perk him up.

His half-closed eyelids shot open as he heard Horatio turn his head from side to side restlessly as he began to mumble incoherently.

_He made his way down the steps of the building that housed the NYPD's 15__th__ precinct and looked up at the clear blue skies above him, taking heart from the fact that it appeared to be a pleasant day weather-wise._

_He wasn't sure why, but he had the feeling that someone was watching him. He lowered his gaze until his eyes fell upon the woman standing across the street, smiling wolfishly at him._

_He breathed her name as he drunk in the sight of her, the passing years doing nothing to dampen his passionate feelings towards her. She had him wrapped around her little finger, anything she asked he would gladly do if it meant that he got to spend time with her, to be close to her and satisfy her every need. He was helpless against her, his love for her blinding him to anything or anyone else._

_Suddenly, he was overcome with a need to be near her, to see her, to smell her, to hold her in his arms once more. Their eyes met and he decided there and then to make his way over to her and show the beautiful woman just how much she meant to him._

_He frowned as her expression changed from one of delight to one of disappointment, he opened his mouth to call out to her but found that he couldn't._

_He tried to move his legs, one in front of the other, but found that he couldn't move either. As his eyes travelled down he could see the chains secured to his ankles, he tried to raise his arms but found that they were bound also._

_He had no other option but to watch helplessly as Benny Malucci took the woman he loved by the hand and pulled her away into the distance, he could see the knife he held at her back and knew that the mobster would have no qualms about using it on her._

_She gave him one last glance from over her shoulder as she was dragged away._

_"Why didn't you save me, Johnny?"_

He woke with a start, surprised to find Eric's soulful brown eyes gazing into his own.

"You ok, H?"

He attempted to raise his injured left hand before realising that he couldn't, he lifted his shaky right hand to his head instead as he rubbed roughly at his eyes.

"I'm fine," he said after a long pause, struggling to keep his eyes open for more than a few moments at a time.

"It looked like you were having a bad dream."

He looked at Eric sharply but said nothing in response.

"Who's Lori? You kept calling her name."

"Just someone I knew back in New York," he replied evasively.

Eric could tell by the tension in Horatio's body that the woman he dreamt about must have meant a lot to him.

"She must be special to you," he suggested quietly.

The older man closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh.

"She was very special to me. She was my wife."

* * *

**Miami. Yesterday evening:**

"He wouldn't really tell me much more about her, he just kept shutting me down every time I tried to get him to open up," Eric said sadly as he took a swig of his beer.

"John's a lot more closed off these days, kid. It's not surprising considering all of the shit he went through back then."

Andy raised an eyebrow at Eric's wistful smile.

"Something you wanna say?"

The younger man shook his head as he tried to shake the image from his mind.

"I'm just having a hard time imagining Horatio being a hearts and flowers kind of guy."

Andy snorted derisively as he chewed another mouthful of steak.

"John was young and innocent back then. Just a fool in love."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1989:**

It had been three weeks since they had closed the Harper case and Andy found it strange that the young female ADA kept finding reasons to drop by the precinct on a regular basis. Had he been more inclined to listen to the department tittle-tattle he would have come to the conclusion much sooner that his partner and the lawyer were an item.

In hindsight he could see how the young man's demeanour had changed subtly, he was even bouncier and perkier than usual and all the more irritating for it. His partner most definitely had the look of a man who was getting laid pretty much every night, of that he had no doubt.

John was no longer keen to stay after shift or come in early now that he had a special woman in his life. He noticed how the guy would often glance to the clock on the wall in the squad room as the end of the shift beckoned.

It just happened to be today that he was confronted with undeniable evidence of his partner's liaison with the young woman. John had volunteered to go over some key pieces of evidence and testimony in preparation for the Harper trial hearing and had shown the ADA to an interview room down the corridor.

Over an hour had passed and he was beginning to get itchy feet at being sat in the stuffy squad room all day. Pulling himself to his feet and using the desk for support, he strolled out of the room intent on finding John to tell him he was going out for some fresh air.

He realised all too late that he should have knocked as the two young lovers were caught in a passionate embrace over the desk in the middle of the room. It was hard to know who was the most shocked out of the three of them, he stood dumfounded for a number of moments as the other two went about rearranging their clothes and smoothing their ruffled hair down.

"Anything come up?" Andy quipped as he arched an eyebrow at the embarrassed pair before shaking his head and walking away.

He could still hear their giggling from the other end of the corridor and felt a pang of regret that the ravages of time had taken their toll on him, chipping away at his own youthful innocence until all that was left was a bitter and twisted alcoholic old man.


	17. Chapter 17

**Miami. Present day: **

"I'm sure you and Andy had much more interesting things to talk about than me," Horatio said quietly as he fiddled with the arms of his sunglasses.

"Don't worry, H. You weren't the only thing we talked about last night."

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied dryly.

"He's a good man; he's got a lot of knowledge about being a good cop."

"That's true, brother, he certainly taught me a trick or two," he smiled.

"Has he told you that he's thinking of setting up as a private investigator down here in Miami?"

Judging by the blank look on his face, Eric safely assumed that the other man had no idea what he was talking about.

Horatio couldn't help but feel a little hurt that Andy had divulged his plans to someone other than him and felt a pang of jealously that he wasn't the first to know.

_That's because you've been spending too much time feeling sorry for yourself, old man, _his subconscious goaded him.

"And I'm sure he'll be a very successful one if he decides to make a go of it…."

He was interrupted from his thought process as he caught a glimpse of Calleigh's flowing blonde hair as she marched down the hallway, probably intent on finding him.

It was at times like this that he wished he wasn't so tall and that his red hair didn't make him stand out as much as it did. It would be next to impossible to hide from Calleigh, especially when she was a woman on a mission.

He steeled himself for the chastisement that was to come as she made her way into the room; he took a deep breath and waited for her to begin.

"Eric, could you go and chase up the results of the autopsies for your case please?"

The Cuban saw the determined look on her face and quickly made a graceful exit from the room, just glad that he was not the centre of her attention right now.

"I'll go with him," Horatio said as he made his way to the door.

"Stay where you are," she commanded firmly before softening her tone, "Please."

He stood with his head bowed as he looked down at the sunglasses in his hand, glad to have them to occupy his attention.

"Firstly, you forgot this," she said as she handed him the wrist support and watched him strap it in place before rolling his sleeve back down.

"Secondly, I want to apologise for the way I spoke to you this morning. It was completely uncalled for; I had no right to say those things to you."

He hadn't expected that, and his face registered his shock.

"No, you were right, Calleigh. I've been entirely selfish, thinking about myself all the time."

He looked up and gave her a wry smile before returning his attention to his glasses.

"Alexx rang me earlier and gave me a piece of her mind."

"What did she say?" Calleigh questioned as she felt her heartbeat slow from the galloping pace it had set when she first entered the room.

"That I should talk to someone…professionally."

The way he said the last word almost made Calleigh laugh, he made it sound dirty and unsavoury.

"But you don't want to," she added as she kept her tone neutral.

He gave her a brief look again as he blushed slightly.

"It's not like I've done a bang-up job trying to deal with it myself so far."

Checking that the coast was clear, she leaned forwards and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," she smiled at him before adding, "Are we good?"

He gave her a boyish grin, the one that she found so endearing about him.

"Always, sweetheart," he said as he squeezed her arms lightly and left the room.

"All good, H?" Eric asked as he saw his colleague make his way into the morgue.

He smiled and gave Eric a nod of the head before turning his attention to the body on the autopsy table.

"What have we got, Dr Loman?" he asked, his mask of professionalism firmly back in place.

"Ah, Lieutenant, good morning. What a lovely day it is outside, such a shame to spend it here with the recently departed."

"Indeed, Doctor. Do you have the autopsy results for us?"

The quirky M.E pushed his glasses further up his nose before gleefully beginning his assessment.

"I thought you'd never ask. It appears as if both Mr and Mrs Simpson were killed by two different weapons. Wound impressions suggest that it was some kind of knife that struck the fatal blow for both victims."

"Does it suggest murder/suicide?" Eric asked as he folded his arms over his broad chest.

Tom shook his head vigorously.

"There is no possible way for either of the victims to have stabbed themselves fatally; I think you're looking at another perpetrator, perhaps even two."

"What makes you say that, Doctor?" Horatio questioned as he viewed the female corpse side-on.

The M.E lifted the sheet and pointed to a wound on the woman's abdomen and then another further up her chest.

"The angles and depths of these cuts are different and the wound pattern is slightly different too, which would suggest that there were two different attackers."

"Any luck on narrowing down a murder weapon?"

"And where would be the fun in doing your job for you?" the doctor replied before walking away.

An unspoken moment passed between the two men as Eric collected the wound impression moulds from the autopsy tray before they made their way back to the elevator.

"Surely you didn't miss dealing with Dr Kooky in there, did you?" the younger man asked as they stepped inside.

"You'd be surprise what you miss when you're stuck in hospital, brother."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 8 weeks ago:**

He sat up in the hospital bed with a magazine in his lap yet he couldn't seem to take much interest in it. In fact, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open after yet another gruelling session of walking the short distance around his room with Alexx for company.

He scowled as he thought of her; she seemed to be taking great delight from his inability to stand without assistance for more than a few seconds. Her triumphant smile as he wobbled after pushing himself too hard had irritated him with increasing frequency over the last few days.

Still, he was moderately satisfied that he could at least make it to the bathroom and back with minimal assistance now and it meant that he could finally get rid of the appliance that took care of those needs for him.

It seemed silly to be so grateful for something so small but it helped to rebuild what little self-confidence he had left. He finally had a small amount of independence and control over his own body and its functions, something he had took for granted before his abduction.

He still needed the assistance of another person to help him in and out of bed but he was able to take the shaky few steps from bed to bathroom on his own. His legs and balance became less shaky as each day passed and even though he hated Alexx for it at first he was glad that she had forced him into eating the bland tasting slop that passed for food in the hospital.

Most of the tubes and wires were gone, along with the majority of the drugs that they had been pumping into him for weeks and he had to admit to himself that his head felt clearer and his mind sharper these past few days.

With clarity came frustration, he was able to walk short distances and although his body was weakened his mind was still as sharp as ever. Able to think clearly for the first time in weeks meant that he had little else to do but sit and brood on what had transpired over the last six months and this lead to endless days and nights of running the memories over and over in his mind, trying to figure out what he could have done differently.

He was shaken from his reverence by a familiar, blue-eyed boy entering his room.

"Hey, Dad."

A smile immediately graced his face as he took in the sight of the boy that was fast becoming a fine young man.

"Son, it's good to see you. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," Kyle replied as he sat down beside the bed and placed a hand on his father's uninjured arm.

"You shouldn't be sitting here wasting time with me. You should be out with people your own age."

"Don't you think we've wasted enough time, Dad?"

The boy looked at him sadly.

"This wasn't the father-son time I had in mind," Horatio said quietly as his gaze dropped to his lap.

"Me neither, but they'll be plenty of time to do that when you're better. Any idea when they're letting you out of here?" the young man replied as he snagged a grape from the bowl by the bed and popped it in his mouth.

His countenance darkened as he once more cursed Alexx and her rules and regulations.

"Alexx says next week, if I behave," he said sourly.

"Well, we best make sure you're on your best behaviour then."

Kyle smiled as he saw his father's patented glare being flashed in his direction and felt a semblance of hope that the older man was finally regaining some of the essence of what made him such a powerful force.

"You and I are going fishing when you're up to it," he declared proudly.

"You fish?" Horatio asked before his face dropped, realising that there was still so much about his son that he didn't know. Too many years in the wilderness had prevented either man from getting to know the other in the way that a father and son should.

"One of my foster fathers taught me, we used to go fishing most weekends."

"I'm sorry, Kyle," he said quietly as he hung his head in shame.

"For what?"

"For missing some of the most important moments of your life. I never saw your first steps, your first day at school, graduation….."

Kyle picked his father's hand up and held it tightly.

"It doesn't matter now. We'll make new memories, ok?"

Horatio looked at his son shyly.

"I'd like that."

"Me too, Dad."

Nothing was said as they sat in companionable silence, until a dark thought crossed Horatio's mind.

"When do you have to report for your next posting?"

"Not for a while yet. I saw my commanding officer a few days ago and he's extended my leave for compassionate reasons. He said I wouldn't be much good to my unit if I was spending all my time worrying about you."

Kyle had said the words in jest but was alarmed by the look of shame that crossed his father's handsome features; he interjected before the other man could have time to berate himself.

"I worry about you because I care about you, everyone does. We're not going to stop caring about you just because you think this is all your fault. Let us help you."

"Kyle…..it's hard…."

"Then let me make it easy for you," he said as he reached over for the shaving can and razor on the bedside table.

"Let's give you a shave and then we'll go and get us some real coffee. Manly coffee, not that weak stuff in the vending machines here. I'm going to take you down to the canteen," he finished triumphantly.

"Thank you, son. You have no idea how much that means to me or how much I've missed it."

"What, real coffee?" he joked.

"No, spending time with you."

"And the coffee?" he repeated, smiling at his father who nodded his head in agreement.

"And the coffee."


	18. Chapter 18

**Miami. Present day:**

"Hey Cal," Frank called from down the corridor, "You got a second?"

"Sure, what's up?"

The tall Texan rubbed a hand over his balding head as let out a frustrated sigh.

"I wanted you to be the first to know, I had a little run-in with IAB yesterday."

"Sargent Craig?"

"Yeah, that little witch."

Calleigh smiled at the description of the smartly dressed IAB officer, a fastidious and unlikeable little witch she certainly was.

"She came to see me too."

"She give you all that crap about the Malucci thing?"

"Both barrels," she replied sourly.

"I swear, Cal, if she'd been a guy I would have smacked her mid-way into next week the way she was running her mouth off."

"She's just trying to get a rise out of you. Don't let her get under your skin."

Frank straightened to his full height and placed his hands on his hips.

"I kinda find that hard to do when she spouting all sorts of crap about you and Horatio."

* * *

**Flashback. Yesterday afternoon:**

"Sargent Tripp, a moment of your time if you please."

He looked up and found himself staring into the face of the now infamous IAB officer, Sargent Hillary Craig. Rumours of her hard-nosed approach spread through the department like wildfire, the fierce young woman had put paid to a number of officers careers since she'd transferred from out of state last year.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly as he returned his attention to the paperwork on his desk, he hated paperwork at the best of times but today it was preferable over a grilling from the woman in front of him.

"I'd like to speak with you privately, is there somewhere we can talk?"

He could feel the eyes of the room on him, no officer wanted to be caught talking to the IAB, that was how rumours of snitches and rats started.

"This way," he barked as he led her out of the bullpen and into a small, windowless room.

"Do you have something to hide, Sargent Tripp?" she asked coolly as she laid down her attaché case on the table and took a seat.

"Only my dislike for trolls like you."

She ignored the insult, treating it as if it were water off a duck's back.

"I take it that you know why I'm here."

"I couldn't give a damn why you're here. Why don't you spell it out for me?"

"I'm investigating two of your colleagues, CSI Duquesne and Lieutenant Caine."

"What about them?"

"The department needs to ascertain whether their actions were in contravention of department policy."

"Bullshit. You're just on a witch hunt."

"Think what you like, Sargent Tripp. The fact remains that we have four dead officers and seven dead civilians. Questions must be asked of what happened."

He crossed his arms across his chest and continued standing, as far away from the IAB officer as possible.

"I'm not helping you hang my colleagues for something they didn't do."

The smartly-dressed young woman looked at him with disapproving eyes.

"Do you really think that your colleagues would do the same for you if they were in your position?"

"I know they would. You're just a jumped-up pen-pusher; I bet you've never seen a day of real action out there on the streets in your life."

"Ah yes, the brotherhood between officers."

"Damn right. I know my colleagues have my back no matter what."

"So if you were in CSI Duquesne's shoes you would have done the same?"

"You mean would I throw everything I had at finding Horatio?"

The curt woman nodded her head.

"Of course I would have, nothing else mattered apart from getting him back in one piece."

"Even if it meant neglecting other cases that needed the department's attention?"

He huffed in frustration but said nothing, refusing to be goaded into tripping himself up.

"What about the dozens of officers who helped in the search, are you just expecting the department to pay for all of that unsanctioned overtime?"

"That was nothing to do with me, those men chose to come in during their time off."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. It might surprise you but the people here are a team and we stick together."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 8 weeks ago:**

"Hey, partner, how you feeling?" Frank asked as he walked into his colleague's hospital room.

"Better, thanks. What am I missing at the lab?"

"Nothing much, pal. It's been strangely quiet this week," he mused as he made himself comfortable in the chair by the bed.

"That's never good, Francis."

"I know, I keep waiting for the penny to drop and all hell to break loose."

The two men smiled at each other, they had grown close since the Horatio had moved to Miami to start a new life with a new identity. So much could be said between them with just a simple look or nod of the head. Neither man would ever profess the depths of their feelings for each other but both of them knew that the bond between them ran deep.

"So, they throwing you out of here soon?" the stocky Texan drawled.

"Soon, I hope. Alexx says next week."

"I bet you can't wait."

"No, I can't. I'll be glad to see the back of this place."

"You and me both," Frank agreed.

He took a good look at his friend and colleague, he still looked haggard and the numerous injuries were still in different stages of healing but it was clear to see that Horatio looked a great deal better than he had when he'd been brought in nearly six weeks ago.

The grey and unattractive hospital gown had gone and had been replaced with an MDPD t-shirt and shorts. With the change of clothes seemed to come a change in temperament, Horatio appeared more hopeful and enthusiastic if still quite distant and quiet.

He hoped that a change of scenery would do Horatio some good and that he would find it easier to recover in surroundings that were familiar to him. That was until he realised that his friend's house was still a crime scene.

"I bet you'll miss the bed baths though," he suggested, trying to raise the other man's spirits.

He was disheartened when he saw the pained look on Horatio's face.

"I just want to go home, Frank," he said quietly as he ran his good hand over his clean-shaven face.

"You will, pal, I promise you. We're all going to do whatever it takes to get you back up on your feet."

"Frank….."

"No, Horatio. We're a team and we damn well look out for each other, you hear me?"

* * *

**Miami. Yesterday afternoon: **

"Tell me about the relationship between CSI Duquesne and Lieutenant Caine."

He gave the small woman a look of pure venom.

"They're colleagues."

"Are you sure there's nothing more to it than a professional admiration for one another?"

"Yes."

"Really?" Sargent Craig began as she walked around the room with her hands behind her back.

"I would have thought for a detective as seasoned as you that you would have noticed the signs by now."

"What signs?"

"The little looks, the brief body contact, the flirting…."

He refused to be spun into her web of deceit.

"They've known each other a long time, they have a close relationship."

"How close?"

"Pardon me?"

"How close are they? Are they just colleagues or are they sleeping together?"

"I wouldn't know."

"But you've just told me how you're such good friends with the Lieutenant, wouldn't he tell you something like that?"

"Look, lady. We're not the kind of guys who get together to paint each other's nails and talk about our love lives."

"What do you talk about?"

"What does it matter?"

"Maybe you should ask your colleagues where their loyalties really lay, Sargent Tripp. What do you think would happen if one of them was forced to make a decision between saving your life or the one they loved?"

He was tiring of the mental hoops the IAB officer was trying to make him jump through as he ran a hand over his face and snapped at her.

"If you have nothing reasonable to ask me then why don't you do us all a favour and get lost."

"I'll be seeing you, Sargent Tripp. Be assured of that."

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"You should watch your back, Cal. That evil little troll is after blood and I get the feeling she ain't gonna stop until she gets it."

"I appreciate the concern but she can throw whatever she wants at me; it's Horatio I'm worried about."

"Yeah, she made it pretty obvious that the department are looking for a scapegoat in all of this."

"Well, it won't be him," she replied confidently.

"And it sure as hell won't be you either," Frank responded with equal conviction.


	19. Chapter 19

"Come on, you drive," Eric said amiably as he tossed the keys to the Hummer to his reluctant partner.

Horatio shook his head and muttered under his breath as he pulled himself up into the vehicle's driver's seat.

"I know what you're doing, Eric"

The younger man looked at him angelically.

"You're trying to make me feel useful."

"Is it working?"

He gave Eric a wan smile.

"No."

The Cuban ignored his colleague's good-natured grousing.

"Do you know where we're going?"

"Biscayne Boulevard, let's go and see what Mr Fernandez has to say for himself shall we?"

Thirty minutes later Horatio pulled the cumbersome vehicle up to the curb in a rundown neighbourhood, the majority of the houses were surrounded by chain link fences and young groups of Hispanic men sat on their front porches with radios blaring and their gang-affiliated tattoos on full display.

He was grateful of the distraction of driving through the mid-morning traffic as it took his mind off of more pressing matters, namely the appointment he had at 4pm to talk to an old friend and colleague of Alexx's.

She had simply worn him down with her insistence that he visit the man she regarded as an expert in his field and having time on his hands would only lead him to question his judgement in agreeing to visit him in the first place.

His past experiences had taught him never to question fate or explore his feelings in any great depth, preferring instead to bury his emotions in the past and move on. It was a technique that had worked for him for many years until recently and now that his coping mechanisms were no longer working he was at a loss for what else to do.

Talking about his feelings was far too much like admitting his weaknesses to other people, something that he was loathe to do. No, it was better to put up a front and push away the thoughts and gestures of concern from those around you rather than face your demons head on.

The problem was that during his lengthy recovery there were many days when he simply had nothing else to do but sit and brood on his past and the choices that he had made, choices that inevitably led to his fall from grace.

And what a fall it had been, hindsight had burdened him with the ability to see what a fool he had been in underestimating the lengths the second generation of Malucci's would do to exact their revenge on him. During those weeks when Agent Collins had tried to warn him of their impending attack he had simply chose to ignore him, his ego had not allowed him to see the threat they posed until it was too late.

He had been left defenceless against them; his head injury had robbed him of his memory and left him clueless as to why the crime syndicate was targeting him. Once they had abducted him they had systematically tortured and abused him for days, demanding information that was impossible for him to give.

Would he have done things differently if he had been able to remember?

It was a question that still bothered him deeply even now, would he have given up the FBI agent in order to save his son, and would he have been able to live with the consequences if he had?

He had always prided himself on being a man of principle, a man who would stand firm in even extreme adversity and yet he knew that deep down in his heart that he would have betrayed all of his morals in order to protect his boy and it had led him to question how just a man he really was.

To trade one life for another, who was he to decide who had a right to live and who should die?

Thankfully, it was a choice that he had never had to make but the thought that Kyle could so easily have been killed still shook him to the core. If he could have at least remembered he would have been in a position to make a choice on the fate of his son and it was the lack of power and control that had wounded him the deepest. Had the assassination of Kyle been real he would've forever had to live with the guilt that he could have prevented it if not for the poor choices he had made.

Deep down he knew that his colleagues were right; he had lost the sense of perspective that had served him so well for so long, he'd spent too long brooding, going over every detail in order to decide if he should or could have done things differently.

Loathe as he was to admit it, he knew he was unable to move past it until he had faced his demons head-on and that he was unable to do it by himself. He'd been fiercely independent for so long that he had become reliant on only himself and to accept any form of help from others was viewed as a sign of weakness in his own eyes.

Ego and pride had come before his fall from grace last time and Horatio was a smart man if nothing else, a man who hoped that he was able to learn from his past mistakes.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 8 weeks ago:**

"Today's the day, sugar," Alexx beamed as she entered the hospital room of her beloved friend.

Lying on top of the covers dressed in an old grey t-shirt and joggers, Horatio Caine returned the doctor's smile with one of his own.

"I have no doubt that you'll be pleased to get rid of me, Alexx."

Her smile faltered slightly as her subconscious threw the horrific images of Horatio when he had been brought in a little over six weeks ago at her. Although the wounds and injuries were healing Horatio still had a long way to go before he could even consider returning to his position at the lab.

The past few weeks had been hard on everyone, not at least Horatio himself and it had taken its toll on all concerned with his welfare and subsequent recovery. There were days when he had simply given in, days when he had been so consumed by his hopelessness that he would barely make the effort to engage with the people who visited him.

Being so reliant on others to take care of his most basic needs had been a bitter pill for the proud and independent lieutenant and his anger at his perceived helplessness would often by targeted at those around him but through it all they had held firm and refused to leave his side.

Although he was still shaky and weak, Alexx was happy that Horatio was in a position whereby the best place for him to continue his recovery would be in familiar and comfortable surroundings.

That left her with the next obstacle to overcome, convincing the stubborn man that he would still require the support and care of his friends if he were to leave the hospital. Horatio could be infuriatingly set in his ways, she loved the man dearly but she wished that she could make him see what a damn fool he was being at times.

Calleigh and Kyle were waiting patiently outside the room as she carefully gauged the injured man's mood before raising the subject of who would take care of him during his continued convalescence. Her experience in dealing with Horatio had taught her that it was best to deal with him on a one to one basis, having too many people trying to force their will upon him would only lead to him clamming up and refusing point-blank to do what was being asked of him.

"I can go home?" Horatio asked quietly as he pushed himself further up the bed, wincing at the pain in his ribs and the healing wounds on his abdomen.

"As long as you understand that someone will have to stay with you, for the first few weeks at least."

He looked as if he were about to object but was silenced by a fierce look from Alexx as his face, and his hopes, dropped at the thought, he realised that he had no one who would be willing or able to take care of him.

"Guess I'll be staying here a bit longer," he finally said, his voice no more than a whisper as he kept his head down.

"No, you won't."

He looked at her, clearly confused.

"Calleigh and Kyle are waiting outside to take you home. They'll be making sure you stay out of trouble."

His heart began to pound at the thought of Kyle being forced to take care of him on a daily basis, he had relented and allowed his boy to help him shave but it galled him to think of what else he would be required to do once he returned home with him.

So far, the nurses had attended to his more personal needs and he was oddly more comfortable with a stranger helping him than he was his own friends and family. A boy as young and innocent as Kyle should not be forced to help wash and dress his own father, it was simply not acceptable as far as he was concerned.

And that was to say nothing of Calleigh and how emasculated he would feel as she tended to his most private needs. His beautiful blonde bombshell deserved a young and vibrant partner, not some old and needy man who required round the clock care. How would she ever see him in a passionate light again?

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea," he said finally as he met the doctor's eyes.

"Why not?" she asked as she let out a frustrated sigh, placing her hands on her hips.

"Calleigh needs to run the lab and Kyle should be spending his time with people his own age, not his ailing father."

"But this is their choice, Horatio. They want to do it; you need to let them help you. They need to feel needed."

She could see the uncertainty in his face.

"This isn't just about you anymore; do you have any idea how helpless everyone felt when you'd been taken?"

She walked to the bed and sat down on the side.

"You're not the only one who needs to heal, sugar."

* * *

**Miami. Present day: **

"Hey, pigs," a deep Hispanic voice called from across the street.

Sat on the front porch were a group of young men, each muscular and heavily set as they smoked what looked like joints brazenly in front of the two officers as they made their way further along the sidewalk opposite.

"Hey, we heard all about you, Pappy. How those Guido's taught you some manners. We heard they made you bend over and take it like a bitch, not such a big man now are you, Caine?"

Horatio glanced quickly at his colleague and could immediately sense the other man tensing, balling his fists and itching for a fight.

"Leave it, brother," he said quietly as he kept his gaze straight ahead.

Eric pursed his full lips as he shot daggers at the men across the street.

"I'm not gonna let them talk trash about you, H."

"What's the matter, Red? Got nothing to say for yourself?" another voice taunted.

"H…" the Cuban pleaded.

He stood firm as he allowed the insults to wash over him. He'd been made aware just how much of a furore there had been over his abduction and subsequent rescue and it had only served to embarrass him further than he already had been.

There were no words that anyone could say to make him feel any less of a man than he had already been made to feel. Perhaps they were right; maybe he had lost his edge. Only time would tell one way or another.

Common sense prevailed over his need to protect his wounded ego. He and Eric were vastly outnumbered and it was highly likely that the gang members were all carrying weapons of some sort. It also struck him that perhaps he didn't have the courage or physical strength he once had, had he been alone he might have been tempted to take his chances but he refused to place another person he cared about in danger.

He stopped as he realised that Eric was a few paces behind him. He turned to look at the younger man.

"Eric. I'm not asking you again, leave it," he growled as he motioned to a house further down the street.

He let out a sigh of relief as his brother in law finally relented and followed him reluctantly into the front yard of their suspect's home.


	20. Chapter 20

A strange sense of déjà vu washed over Eric as he stood side by side with Horatio in much the same way as they had several months ago when they had visited young Pablo Cruz. Both men stood with their badges and guns on full display and the younger man prayed to God that there would not be a repeat of the carnage that their last visit to a rundown neighbourhood had created. It was at the house of the young witness that Horatio had suffered the head injury that had caused the havoc to unfold all those months ago.

He watched warily as his colleague raised his hand and thumped on the door once more.

"MDPD, open up please."

Finally, a young Hispanic woman answered the door, her dark hair tied back roughly in a ponytail as a lit cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth.

"What do you want?" she snapped as she readjusted the grip on the toddler in her arms.

Taking his sunglasses off, Horatio stood side-on as he spoke.

"We're looking for Jesus Fernandez, ma'am. We'd like to ask him some questions in regards to an incident in Coral Gables."

She gave the two men a sour look before taking a deep breath and calling at the top her voice causing a dog several doors down to bark in annoyance.

"Jesus! The cops are here. What have you done now?"

A male voice could be heard in the near vicinity of where they were standing.

"Damn girl, couldn't you have told them that I wasn't here?"

"Just because you fathered my kids it don't mean I gotta lie for you, you useless dog. Come and get rid of them."

Eric raised an eyebrow at Horatio as the argument carried on before them until finally Jesus Fernandez made his way to the front door, poking his head out of the porch, looking left and right to ascertain whether he was being watched.

"Jesus Fernandez?" Horatio asked as he looked his quarry up and down.

"Who wants to know?"

"I'm Lieutenant Caine and this is CSI Delko," he explained as he pointed to his colleague.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you wouldn't mind."

Jesus looked at them warily as his eyes darted to the group of men across the road and back again several times.

"I ain't got nothing to say about nothing."

Reluctant suspects who were not forthcoming with information was nothing new to either Horatio or Eric, and the Lieutenant felt confident that he could convince Jesus to tell them what they wanted to know.

"We could do this quickly and quietly or we could take you down to the station right now, I'm sure my colleague Mr Delko would be more than happy to inform your associates across the road at how helpful you were in our enquiries about local street gangs."

Jesus realised that he had little choice than to do what the officers wanted. He let out a defeated sigh and ran a hand over his well-manicured goatee.

"What do you wanna know?"

Horatio gave Eric a brief smile.

"Can you account for your whereabouts two nights ago, Mr Fernandez?"

"What's it you where I was?"

"Because your fingerprints were found at the scene of a murder in Coral Gables, care to explain how they got there?"

Their suspect fidgeted nervously as he stood rooted to the spot.

"I did some work there, I'm a free-lance landscape gardener," he responded confidently a moment later.

Horatio glanced briefly at the poor state of the front yard, weeds and bare patches of dirt covered the lawn and it was clear to see that it had not seen a mower or a rake in at least six months.

He raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is that so, Mr Fernandez?"

"Yeah, you ask the lady who lives there. She'll tell you I did a good job for her a few weeks back."

"I'm afraid we can't do that, Jesus, seeing as Mr and Mrs Simpson are both dead."

Horatio paused for a few moments as he watched for any tell-tale signs of guilt from his suspect as he glanced up surreptitiously from his sunglasses.

"I'm also interested to know how as their gardener your fingerprints were found inside the house."

Jesus Fernandez slowly descended into a ball of nervous tension as he tried to talk his way out of the mess that he'd suddenly found himself in.

"The lady let me use her bathroom, that's why you found my prints."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Well, Jesus, why did we find your prints in the master bedroom then?"

The Hispanic man's face drained of colour, after taking a moment or two to collect himself he cast a look back into the house and stepped out onto the porch, closing the front door behind him.

"Keep your voice down man," he complained as he listened for signs that his girlfriend had caught wind of his infidelity.

"Ok, ok. So I was doing the gardening for Mrs Simpson and banging her on the side. There's no law against that, is there?"

"That as may be, you still need to account for your whereabouts two nights ago."

"I was playing pool with the guys down at the local bar. Go to Chico's and ask for Cherry if you don't believe me."

The sun glinted regally off of his badge as Horatio placed both hands on his hips and spoke coolly to Jesus.

"You can be sure that we'll check your alibi out, Mr Fernandez. Don't leave town."

"Well, that was a bust," Eric huffed as they made their way back to the Hummer.

"Maybe. I get the feeling that Mr Fernandez knows more than he's letting on."

"You were great back there, you know," Eric smiled as he climbed into the passenger seat.

Even though Horatio was wearing his sunglasses Eric couldn't mistake the disbelieving stare his colleague was giving him.

"I mean it, H."

He waved his comments away with his right hand as he turned the key in the ignition and pulled the heavy vehicle back out into the road before the radio suddenly crackled into life.

"All units be advised, shots fired at Warehouse 14, Righton Avenue. Assistance required."

"That's about three blocks from here," Eric said as he picked up the radio handset.

Horatio gave him a quick nod of the head before accelerating down the street.

"This is CSI One, we're en route. ETA is approximately five minutes."

* * *

"Hey, Calleigh."

The voice behind her made her jump as she spilled a small amount of coffee from the freshly brewed pot in the break room.

Grabbing a paper towel she dabbed the scalding liquid from her hands and shook them dry

"I'm sorry," Natalia said as she towards her colleague and began mopping up the mess on the table. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine, I guess I wasn't paying attention. Was there something you needed?"

The DNA expert frowned worriedly at Calleigh as she took in her appearance. The blonde woman had tried to hide it well but it was obvious to another female that she was beginning to look worn and haggard.

She wasn't even sure she should be saying anything or whether she had a right to either.

"I saw Horatio before the start of shift this morning. I bumped into him in the locker room."

Calleigh looked at her colleague blankly and waited for her to continue.

"I walked in on him getting changed…..I saw the scars, Calleigh."

Natalia watched her friend wince slightly.

"He tried to hide them after that but it was already too late. I knew what had happened but I guess I just never expected to see those marks again. I did a pretty poor job of hiding my shock; I think I upset him, Calleigh."

Calleigh could see the tears brimming in Natalia's eyes and took pity on her as she motioned for the other woman to sit down.

"It's true that Horatio doesn't want anyone to see those scars but it wasn't your fault, Natalia."

"I just feel so bad for him," Natalia tried to explain as she let out a frustrated breath.

"He doesn't need our pity, Natalia. He needs us to treat him as we would before all of this happened, ok?"

The Latino woman nodded her head and tucked the loose strands of hair that had fallen into her face behind her ears.

"There is one other thing, Calleigh," she began as the other woman nodded at her to continue.

"I've been summoned to talk to IAB about you and Horatio; I wanted to tell you in person. I'm not going to tell them anything," she finished defiantly.

"Just go in there and tell them the truth, Natalia."

"But what if they try to hang you or H out to dry?"

Calleigh placed a hand on her colleague's knee and gave her a reassuring smile.

"We've dealt with IAB before, and we'll deal with them again. You owe it to Horatio to tell the truth, no matter what they ask you."


	21. Chapter 21

Within minutes they had arrived at the warehouse, closely followed by Ryan in another Hummer. All three men jumped out of their vehicles and made their way to the front of the building with guns drawn.

"You take the back, Mr Wolfe. Eric and I will cover the front."

Ryan nodded silently as he crept towards the rear of the building.

Horatio turned to his colleague, his gun and glasses held between both of his hands.

"Ready, brother?"

The younger man gave a quick nod of his head as he checked the ammunition in his weapon and followed his colleague into the building.

They made their way quickly and quietly through the seemingly abandoned building as they checked room by room for any signs of disturbance. The warehouse seemed eerily quiet and Eric began to wonder if the assailant had already fled before they had arrived.

He kept an eye on Horatio, fully aware that this was the first time that he had attended a crime in progress since his abduction. He felt more at ease as he watched him sight his gun as he checked and cleared each room in turn.

With so few areas left to check it was becoming more increasingly likely that the building was empty. Eric could hear Ryan an approaching from the rear and it appeared that he'd had no luck locating their suspect either.

A noise from across the open expanse of the main storage room caught the attention of the two men as they stood still to listen for signs of movement.

Slowly, a figure dragging something emerged from the semi-darkness as both men squinted in order to get a better view.

Horatio raised his weapon higher and took aim at the young man who had a woman held by the throat with one hand and a semi-automatic pistol in the other.

"Let her go, son," he said calmly as he gripped his gun tighter.

The assailant couldn't have been more than twenty years old, a gangly, skinny boy dressed in a rumpled suit and shirt. His short black hair flopped limply over his forehead as the sweat poured from it and dripped down his face. A quick glance down at his clothes showed that the boy had been in a fight of some sort.

The young man waved his weapon in front of him in a panicked daze.

"Don't come any further or I'll shoot her, I swear!"

"You're not going to do that, son. What's your name?"

The question seemed to catch the boy off-guard.

"Tom...Thomas."

"Well, Thomas. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to let the girl go so that we can sort this out, ok?"

He seemed to think about it before finally letting the shaken young woman go and pushing her forwards towards Eric.

"Good man, Thomas."

The boy continued to hold the gun in his hand, pointed straight at Horatio and Eric, the hand shook noticeably as fear and shock set in.

"You need to put the gun down so that we can talk about this, ok?"

Thomas nodded as he began to lower the gun torturously slowly as the fight gradually drained away from his body. He had almost lowered it to the floor when a noise from behind startled him, time seemed to slow as he raised the weapon again, directly at the Horatio and Eric.

_He stood in the office of the Leather and Lace nightclub, the so-called legal enterprise for the Malucci organisation. It had been a night just like any other, his presence often requested in order to dissuade any undercover officers from the NYPD trying to infiltrate the establishment. He'd also been used as a deterrent for any patrons who got out of hand and it was a part if his job that he hated more than most. _

_At first, Frankie and Benny had insisted on another member of the organisation being present when he dished out the special Malucci brand of justice on those patrons who had crossed the line in some way or other. He simply had no choice but to beat those poor people with his fists and boots until they were nothing more than a bloody mess on the sidewalk outside. He hated himself for doing it and would often drink himself into a stupor as soon as he could make his excuses and leave._

_He had called for an ambulance as soon as the coast was clear but it still didn't ease the heavy burden on his conscience, telling himself that he was doing the wrong things for the right reasons had long since failed to soothe his troubled soul._

_As the Malucci's faith and trust in him grew he was no longer required to have an escort as he persuaded certain people to leave the club. This time he let them leave of their own free will, his reputation as a man to be feared was often enough to scare most people into not taking their chances with him. There were other times when he had to be a bit more persuasive but he made a promise to himself that he wouldn't hurt another person in the name of the Malucci's._

_He'd already given Collins enough evidence to put the brothers away for years but the FBI agent kept on insisting that he needed more to make sure that the charges would stick. He'd been risking his life wearing a wire and he knew that with each day he continued with this suicide mission the closer he would be to getting caught._

_He watched silently as Frankie and his brother made their way into the office and stood behind the desk._

_"Glad you could make it, Kelly," the older Malucci drawled._

_"You have a job for me?"_

_"Not tonight, I thought we'd have a little chat instead."_

_John Kelly was no fool, the words sounded ominous and he began panicking that his cover had been blown. It would be just like Collins to sandbag him once he'd outlived his usefulness, the FBI agent would cover his tracks and tie up any loose ends and he was well aware that he was nothing more than that to the wily Collins._

_He tried to keep the rising sense of panic from his voice as he spoke._

_"What about?"_

_"I think it's best if we show you," Benny said as he motioned for him to follow out the rear door of the office._

_He walked slowly behind the two men, looking cautiously around as he sensed that he was heading straight into a trap. He flinched as the door at the back of the club slammed shut loudly behind him._

_"What do you think, Kelly?" Frankie asked as he waved a hand to the people standing bound and gagged outside the building._

_His heart rate rocketed as he looked at each one of them. Andy, Lori and Robin all stood before him, bound by ropes. It was clear to see that whoever had abducted them had been less than gentle with them._

_He screwed his eyes shut and willed their images away, hoping that when he opened his eyes he would realise that it was nothing more than a bad dream. He found that it was not to be as he opened them again and saw his loved ones still standing before him._

_Benny pulled a revolver from his jacket pocket and raised it, taking aim at Lori as she stood staring at him, pleading through the gag in her mouth for him to do something._

_"We warned you what would happen if you crossed us," the mobster growled as he cocked the hammer of the gun._

_"Please, don't hurt her," he begged as he saw the tears streaming down his ex-wife's face._

_"Maybe you should have thought about that before you crossed us, Kelly. Their deaths are on your head."_

_He watched helplessly as Benny pulled the trigger, the bullet hitting Lori in the centre of her forehead, a look of shock and betrayal written all over her face. He stood by and did nothing as her limp body fell to the ground, her vacant eyes staring up at him accusingly._

_He screwed his eyes shut and let out a howl of despair, wishing more than anything that this was not real. He opened his eyes and gasped in shock as the form lying prone on the ground shifted into another person entirely. He watched in a daze, the images in front of him changed before his eyes as he saw the people he had known throughout his life. Andy, Marisol, Speed, Jesse, Eric, Alexx, Calleigh. All of them shifted and changed their appearance as they looked at him with that accusing stare._

_It sounded as if their voices were being amplified as they all asked him one question._

_Why?_

_He raised his hands to cover his ears and slammed his eyes shut. Their voices grew louder until he thought he would be able to take no more. He was about to scream when a shot rang out._

He stared blankly ahead for a number of moments until finally his gaze dropped to the ground. He saw the young man he had tried to talk down lying on the ground holding his shoulder as he tried to staunch the flow of blood from the gunshot wound that had been inflicted on him.

Catching Ryan's swift movement from the corner of his eye he turned his attention to his colleague, watching as the whisps of smoke rose into the air from the heated barrel of his gun.

Eric had already bent down to cuff the injured man and gave his superior a worried look as he called for an ambulance, the frightened girl sat shivering by a stack of cardboard boxes as she wiped furiously at the tears streaming down her face.

He could feel their eyes boring into him as it became painfully obvious what had happened. He had been staring down the barrel of a gun and yet did nothing to protect himself, the girl or his colleagues. He had plainly and simply choked.

Hesitating was the least of his problems now as he felt the pounding of his heart reverberating in his ears. Holstering his weapon he left the building through the nearest exit he could find, ignoring the calls from Eric to come back.

He had to get away, the walls were closing in on him again as he realised that he had frozen like a first-year rookie. He had endangered the lives of his colleagues and of the innocent young girl who had the misfortune to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

In all his years as a police officer he had never hesitated to take the shot when it was necessary. He had hesitated and become what he feared most. He was a liability who had no place on his own team.

Feeling the heat of the midday sun beating down on him as he shakily exited the building, he only made it a few steps before he vomited the paltry contents of his stomach on the bare and arid ground outside.

After spitting out the rancid taste of bile from his mouth he made his way quickly to the Hummer and shoved the key in the ignition the tyres of the vehicle squealing loudly as he sped away.


	22. Chapter 22

"Miss Boa Vista, so nice of you to join me at last," Sargent Craig smiled as the nervous CSI entered the interview room and sat down warily.

"We're a busy lab; processing evidence is our top priority."

"Indeed. No doubt the task has become more difficult being one team member down for so long."

The IAB officer arched an eyebrow at her as she refused to offer a response.

"I am sure your superior officers have already told you the reason for my being here."

"No, they haven't," she replied coolly.

The smartly-dressed Sargent gave her a disbelieving look which quickly turned into an oily smile.

"I'm here to conduct an investigation into the competency of your colleagues CSI Duquesne and Lieutenant Caine. We need to ascertain whether their actions brought about consequences that could have otherwise been avoided."

"I have complete faith in both of them," Natalia responded as she jutted her chin out defiantly.

"But would you follow them blindly even if you believed their ability to make decisions had become impaired?"

"I'd lay down my life for either of them."

The IAB officer flicked through the notes in front of her

"Yes. I see here that Lieutenant Caine led you straight into an ambush last year that resulted in both of you nearly dying."

"That's not what happened….." she tried to explain before the other woman cut her off mid-way.

"Lieutenant Caine is your superior officer, is he not?"

She narrowed her eyes at the evil woman sitting across from her.

"Tell me, did he secure the area?"

"There was no need; we were going to meet with a man who I thought posed no threat to us. I had no idea that he would be armed."

"But both of you failed to ascertain whether your suspect was carry a weapon."

Natalia let out a frustrated breath.

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"I'm trying to ascertain whether your superior is fit for the role he has been given by the department. It seems to me as if his judgement has been skewed for some time and that the unfortunate incident with the Malucci organisation was an accident waiting to happen."

The suited young woman looked down at her notes once more before regarding her prey coolly.

"It is my understanding that Lieutenant Caine is a widower."

"What of it?"

"How would you describe his behaviour since the death of his wife?"

Natalia flinched noticeably at the question, what could Marisol's death possibly have to do with her investigation?

"It affected him deeply, Eric too."

"In what way?"

The IAB officer was obviously not going to take her vague responses as an answer.

"He loved her and he misses her. As he should."

"Would you say he became quieter, more withdrawn from his team after her death?"

"Horatio has always been a very private man but he's never given less than 100% to this lab and the team."

"So you never noticed him working odd hours?"

She looked at the prim woman sitting across from her blankly.

"What do you mean?"

Sargent Craig looked down at the file in front of her again as she placed a piece of paper in front of Natalia.

"These are the sign in sheets for your department in the six months after the death of Marisol Delko-Caine. As you can see, the Lieutenant spent a vast amount of time here during that time. If you look over all of the logs for the last six and a half years you will see a similar pattern."

"Horatio is dedicated to his job and his team. Why are you trying to make something of this?"

"I'm trying to build an understanding of Lieutenant Caine's temperament at the time of his injury and subsequent abduction. Have you at any time believed his judgement to be impaired?"

"In what way?"

"Alcohol or substance abuse?"

Natalia visibly blanched at the accusation.

"No, never."

"But you and other members of your team expressed your concerns that he had not being coping since the death of his wife, had you not?"

"Who told you that?"

The smarmy smile on Sargent Craig's face told her all she needed to know, she had fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the book. Her heart sank as she realised that she had given the woman exactly what she wanted as she watched her gleefully write something in her notes.

"Let's move on shall we, Miss Boa Vista. Did you at any point have any concerns over CSI Duquesne's handling of the team whilst Lieutenant Caine was missing?"

It took a few moments for the shame of falling for the IAB officer's ploy to sink in before she answered tiredly.

"No, I did not."

"My sources report that CSI Duquesne had barely ate or slept for the entire duration of Lieutenant Caine's abduction. How long was he missing for?"

"Just over three days," was her monotone response.

For her, and the rest of the team, it had quite possibly been the longest three days she had ever experienced. They were simply all blind with panic and their need to find their fallen leader before the Malucci's had time to exact their brutal sense of justice on Horatio. It sickened her to think that they had failed him so badly.

The team had always prided themselves on being the best in their field, it was part of the reason that Horatio had asked them to work under him at the lab. Yet nearly all of them failed him by making one rookie mistake after another. They had been so busy chasing their tails and consumed with their focus on finding him that they had often neglected to understand what was right in front of them, staring them in the face.

They'd found him eventually but by then the damage had already been done. The team had visited him every single day since his rescue and had stood by his side as the demons from his past haunted even his waking hours. He had become angry and frustrated, mainly at himself, but Natalia knew that it was the team's fault that they had failed him so badly, whether he realised it or not.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 8 weeks ago:**

Kyle flopped tiredly to the couch beside Calleigh as he nodded gratefully at the mug of steaming coffee she had placed on the table for him. It had been a long and tiring day, not only for them but the injured man they had brought home with them.

"Is he sleeping?" Calleigh asked tiredly as she took a sip of her coffee.

Kyle ran a ragged hand through his hair.

"Yeah, I sat with him for a little while just to make sure but I think all that moving about has tired him out."

He gave Calleigh a wan smile.

"All I got for the last half hour was glares and growls."

"He doesn't mean it, Kyle. He's been through so much and he's still so ill, he loves you so much though. You know that, right?"

He sank back further into the cushions as he let out a deep breath.

"Yeah, I know. He's not at his best right now but it doesn't make it any easier for us to just sit back and watch it."

"He needs to concentrate on himself and getting better, Kyle. In the meantime we've got each other to lean on, ok?"

He gave her a sad smile.

"We do."

Finishing the last of his coffee, Kyle closed his eyes and let the day's events wash over him.

* * *

**Earlier that day:**

He pushed the wheelchair into his father's room as he beamed at the man.

"Check out your wheels, Dad. What do you think?"

The smile faded from his face as he saw the look of righteous indignation that his father shot Alexx's way.

"I'm not getting in that…thing," he said as he pointed at the hospital issue wheelchair.

"It's hospital policy, sugar. You either get in or you don't leave."

Horatio's gaze switched between the chair and the doctor for a number of moments before he finally relented with a dramatic sigh.

"Your word, Alexx, that I only have to sit in that thing until we get outside."

She gave him a toothy grin in response.

"I promise. Now get in the damn chair."

Kyle let out a breath he wasn't aware that he'd been holding as his father shakily pushed himself up from the bed and sat down in the wheelchair with a modicum of assistance from Alexx, who placed his sunglasses over his still-sensitive eyes.

"We've got everything set up at Calleigh's house for you," he told his father excitedly as he pushed him through the hallways that had started to look more like home than anywhere else the last few weeks.

"You're not taking me home?"

Calleigh skipped a couple of paces to keep up with the two men as she joined the conversation.

"Your place is too small for all three of us and besides, you don't have an en-suite, I do."

He could see his father's body tense at Calleigh's words.

"I don't need two nursemaids to look after me," he growled as he kept his head down.

"Well, it's going to take more than one person to run around after you twenty-four hours a day," she shot back without thinking.

Even Kyle and Alexx had stopped walking and turned to look at her in astonishment. She took a deep breath as she tried to backtrack on her careless remark.

"We want to help you, Horatio. Just let us help you get better, please."

He said nothing as he lifted his gaze to her face before twisting his neck as much as his injured body would allow to regard his son.

"Can we go now please?"

"Sure, Dad," the young man responded as he pushed the wheelchair away.

After Alexx had sent them off with a teary goodbye and an admonishment not to return to her ER anytime soon, the three of them set off for Calleigh's house in her department-issued Hummer.

Kyle sat in the back with his father, making sure that the older man was comfortable and had everything he needed for the short trip to the house that they would both call home for the foreseeable future. He kept glancing at his father and noticed the stiff way he held himself and flinched as the vehicle drove over speed bumps or potholes in the road.

Horatio had kept his gaze firmly out of the window until his son's voice shook him from his reverie.

"I stole one of these whilst you were missing," he said quietly, hoping that it would at least shock his father into some sort of meaningful response.

It had the desired effect when the older man turned his head quickly as his eyes widened.

"You did what?"

He looked sheepishly at his father.

"I got fed up sitting on my hands doing nothing, so I decided to commandeer a Hummer and find you myself."

The older man looked crestfallen.

"Kyle, how could have been so reckless? You could have been arrested…..or worse."

"I did it because I wanted to find you, one way or the other. I swear that if you hadn't blown those assholes up I would have killed them myself."

He balled his hands into fists as he thought about how terrible his father had looked when they had finally brought him back to shore, how he had sat by his father's bedside for days, praying that he would wake up.

Their conversation came to a premature end as Calleigh put the Hummer into park and killed the engine, glancing in the rear view mirror and giving her passengers a grin.

"Home, sweet home," she teased as she let herself out of the vehicle and grabbed the bags from the rear.

Kyle opened his door and jumped out before running round the other side to help his father.

"I can manage," the other man growled as he lowered his shaky legs towards the gravel driveway.

"Sure you can," he responded sarcastically as he watched him lose his balance.

Keeping a firm hand on his father's elbow he helped him into the house and gazed at the next obstacle they faced, the stairs.

"Do you need to rest or shall we go straight up?" he asked as he felt the shaking coursing through his father increase the longer they were standing.

"Upstairs, please."

Together they made it, after a few miss-steps and stumbles they found their way into Calleigh's main bedroom.

"This is your room, Dad," he smiled as he helped his weak and injured father sit down on the bed.

"But this is Calleigh's room."

"For now, it's yours. Don't argue, Dad," he added quickly as he saw the other man open his mouth to speak.

Horatio watched as his son placed the holdall down and began unpacking the small selection of clothes that he had brought back from the hospital with him.

"You don't need to do that, son."

"It's no trouble," the younger man replied, "We brought most of your clothes over here the other day; I'm just adding these last few bits. Besides, you need a bath and a change of clothes."

He looked down at his sweat-dampened clothes and realised with a sense of embarrassment that his son was right. Shame washed over him as he realised that he would not be able to make it from the bed without Kyle's assistance.

The young man seemed to understand instantly what his father needed and walked over to him, wordlessly helping him to his feet and towards the bathroom.

Gently lowering his father to the toilet, Kyle allowed the older man to regain control of his breathing and equilibrium. He knew his father felt awkward and embarrassed and being watched like a hawk was doing nothing for his surly demeanour.

He busied himself instead by running the bath and adding the lotion that Alexx had recommended to allow his father's wounds and burns heal more quickly, casting furtive glances to the older man as he hung his head.

It angered Kyle that his father felt so ashamed of himself, as if he brought his ordeal upon himself. Nothing could be further from the truth in the young man's eyes; his father was a hero, both here and in New York. His father had nothing to be ashamed about, he took it upon himself to protect the older man as he recovered and would gladly tend to his every need. It was the least he could do for the man who had saved him and changed his life for the better.

"We need to get these clothes off you, Dad," he said quietly as he turned the taps off.

His father nodded and began awkwardly pulling at his t-shirt, grimacing and growling in frustration as his weak body failed him again.

Kyle said nothing as he pulled the top gently from his father's body and tamped down on the rush of anger he felt at seeing the wounds that littered the other man's body. He bent down silently and went about undoing the laces on his father's shoes and removing his socks, knowing that the man couldn't bend down and accomplish the task for himself.

He held a hand out to his father.

"Stand up and I'll help you take your pants off."

The older man's head shot up quickly.

"No. I can do it," he replied firmly.

"No, you can't. Let me help, Dad."

Between them they managed to get to the bath and he kept his gaze averted as he helped his father sink into the hot water, trying to spare the man's blushes as much as he could. His father was a proud man and did not accept help from others easily; it was important that he showed the older man that he would honour his dignity and make the process as painless as possible.

He grabbed a cloth and gently wiped at the wounds and burns on his father's back as he watched him hang his head. He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he heard his father's breath hitch as he tried to keep his own emotions under control.

After completing his task he decided to give the other man some privacy and set about selecting suitable clothes for him to wear in bed. He pulled out a thin shirt and a pair of shorts which would make dressing and undressing a much easier task the next day.

Wordlessly, he helped his father stand and climb out of the bath before placing him back on the toilet and grabbing some towels. Neither man uttered a word as he dried the older man off tenderly, being mindful of the bruises and wounds.

He dressed his father and then helped him to stand knowing that talking to him or trying to encourage him to engage would be pointless, the less of a deal he made of helping him, the better.

It was obvious that the short trip to Calleigh's and the bath had tired the older man out considerably as he watched the blue eyes grow heavy. He helped him to lie down in the bed and pulled the sheets up to his shoulders before pulling a chair over and sitting by his father's side.

"You don't have to stay, Kyle," Horatio said flatly as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

He said nothing and continued to watch his father until he had finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Calleigh and Kyle sat in comfortable silence for some time before they were disturbed by a loud knocking at the door. Both of their gazes shot to the stairs, simultaneously hoping that the noise hadn't woken the slumbering man upstairs.

She made her way to the door quietly and was surprised to find Ryan and Natalia standing on the other side looking eager.

"Hey, Cal. We just wanted to come and see the big man to welcome him home."

Ryan's face fell as he took in Calleigh's expression.

"He's ok isn't he? We thought he was being released today."

She ran a tired hand through her hair.

"He was. Now's not a good time, guys. Today took a lot of out of him; give him a few days, ok?"

The two young CSIs looked disappointed but did as they were asked as Calleigh closed the door quietly. Horatio was barely holding things together; even an idiot could see that. He needed time to come to terms with what had happened and he certainly didn't need an audience to watch him try to do it.

Right now, he was defenceless and vulnerable. Time and help would restore his vital spirit and soothe his troubled soul. At least, she hoped it would.


	23. Chapter 23

He'd climbed into the Hummer with simply no idea where he would go or what he would do. His mind centred on just one thing, getting as far away from everyone as possible.

There were no words, no justification for what had happened at the warehouse. His colleagues, and the innocent young girl, were depending on him to take decisive action but he had stood there, frozen.

Had Ryan not had the presence of mind to wound and disarm the perpetrator, the outcome could have been very different indeed and he knew deep within himself that the blame would have been rightly placed squarely at his door.

He had led his team into numerous dangerous and risky situations and had always prided himself for leading from the front. It was what he did, he could never send his people into battle, he'd lead them there instead.

He drove blindly as images from his past and present haunted him, driving even though he had no idea where he would go.

Was this what it felt like to lose your mind?

The voices, the images, the smells, sights and sounds. They were all falling in on him, hounding him until he wanted to beg for mercy. He had grown tired of listening to his cell phone ring, knowing that it would be Calleigh or Eric calling, trying their best to talk some sense into him. He turned it off and threw it carelessly in the back of the vehicle as he pressed his foot further down on the accelerator, ignoring the other drivers who honked their horns indignantly at him.

It could have been minutes or hours, but eventually he found himself high up on a hillside with nothing but blue skies above and choppy waters and jagged rocks below. He killed the engine and rested his head on his arms against the steering wheel as he tried vainly to block the world out around him, ignoring the crackle of the radio as Dispatch tried reaching him over and over.

"CSI One, please respond. Over," the message repeated again and again until he could not stand to listen to it any longer. Reaching across, he switched it off and placed his head back down against the steering wheel.

He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below, trying to centre his mind and control his thumping heart. The longer he sat there the more he was sure that what he was about to do was right.

Turning the key in the ignition once more, he had prepared himself mentally for what he was about to do. He was interrupted from his thoughts by the passenger door of the Hummer opening.

"Calleigh," he sighed as he hung his head.

"I tracked the Hummer's GPS, before you ask."

He said nothing as he nodded his head slightly.

"Eric told me what happened."

He refused to look at her, he felt ashamed enough of himself without her giving him a pitying look.

"You know what I have to do then," he responded after an achingly long pause.

"You don't have to do anything. As far as I'm concerned, nothing happened."

His head shot up as he turned to look at her.

"Calleigh, I froze. I could have got everyone killed."

"Will you tell me what happened?" she asked quietly.

"I was trying to talk him down….he'd let the girl go and lowered his weapon…Ryan spooked him."

He sighed and rubbed a weary hand over his face.

"He was aiming right at me….all I could see were the faces of everyone I've ever loved…..Benny had a gun pointed straight at them…he shot them and I couldn't move, I couldn't stop it….I froze."

He looked at her with such pain-filled eyes that she felt as if her heart would shatter to hear him bare his soul to her.

Alexx was right; this was something that neither of them could deal with alone. Whatever the Malucci's had done to him it had changed something in his very essence. The man before her was simply going through the motions of the person he used to be, so consumed by fear and self-hatred that he had lost whatever it was that made him Horatio.

It suddenly dawned on her why Horatio had driven to such a place, high up on a hill with nothing but sharp rocks and rough seas below.

Had he come up here to end it all?

Did he really feel so hopeless that he could no longer see a way out?

"What are you doing up here, Horatio?" she asked nervously, scared of the answer he might give her.

He shook his head and sighed.

"I don't know…I just drove….I ended up here, seemed as good a place as any."

"Please tell me you weren't thinking about driving over the edge," she responded as she felt the breath leave her body with some force.

He glanced at her briefly and gave her a sad smile, before shaking his head once more.

"Probably would have been for the best if I did. I'm nothing more than a liability to you all now."

She leant over and cupped his face in both of her hands.

"Don't ever talk like that. I can't imagine what you're going through, but we'll get past this, I promise you."

He screwed his eyes shut.

"It's never going to end, Calleigh. They broke me…."

"Open your eyes, Horatio."

He refused to obey her command.

"Look at me," she demanded more firmly as she increased the pressure of the hands cupping his cheeks.

Finally, he relented.

"I love you; nothing is ever going to change that. We're going to fix this, ok?"

She held him tightly as she dragged his tired and defeated boy towards her, kissing the top of his head tenderly as he clung to her warm and inviting body, as if somehow sensing the love and protection that her embrace would bring.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 8 weeks ago:**

Kyle had retreated to his bedroom over an hour ago; the stress and strain of the day had taken its toll on the poor boy as he tended to his father throughout the afternoon and early evening. They had decided to take it in shifts to care for the stubborn and angry man who was currently residing in Calleigh's master bedroom.

Seeing the scowl marring the Horatio's face for most of the day had caused her to question whether she and Kyle were doing the right thing by bringing him here and trying to care for him. Neither of them had very much in the way of any experience of looking after someone as badly injured as Horatio had been.

The men that had taken him had hurt him so badly, the injuries so severe that he had spent the last six weeks in hospital. Although the wounds were healing it had left Horatio so tired and weak that he could barely lift himself out of bed without support.

And it was that fact that caused the man to loathe himself so much. Horatio had always prided himself on being self-sufficient and independent, mainly due to the years of isolation and misery that had been forced upon him by forces beyond his control.

He needed control; it was what made him the man he was. He was a natural leader; his team would follow him willingly to the depths of Hell and back because they had faith in him. They looked to him for guidance and support; he was a man in control of his life, his environment, his emotions.

When all of that was stripped away, what was left of the man beneath?

Horatio had found himself weak and vulnerable, relying on the help and good intentions of those around him and the lack of control ate away at him like a cancer, turning the burning bright light of his soul into a dark and smouldering ember.

It seemed like years since the last time she had seen him smile, the worry lines were now etched on his handsome face, the boyish grin no longer a part of the man she had grown to love so deeply.

He was at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take, afraid that taking the wrong road would lead to further heartache and loss. She and Kyle could help with his physical recovery but it was up to the man himself to make peace with his past and chose the future that he wanted.

She prayed that he chose a future with her in it. He had told her how he thought she would have hated him for what he had done all those years ago, but the truth was that it made her love him all the more. How many other men could have willingly given up everything they had ever known to protect the people they cared about?

He had sacrificed everything to ensure the happiness and safety of the people around him and had borne that cross alone, never once complaining or uttering a word to another soul about his torment or suffering.

He needed help. Help to see that he was still the strongest, most vibrant and heroic man she had ever known. She promised herself that she would do whatever it took to help rebuild his mind, body and soul, piece by piece until he was whole again.

She made her way silently down the hall, careful not to disturb either of her house guests. Poking her head around the master bedroom door, she frowned to see Horatio tangled up in the sheets that covered his body.

Creeping forward slowly, she made her way over to the bed and tried to soothe him back into a more restful slumber.

"It's ok, Handsome. You're safe."

Her words had little effect on him as his head continued to toss back and forth on the pillow.

"No, please," he begged as an errant tear leaked from the eyes that were screwed shut.

"You're safe," she repeated as she smoothed the sweat-soaked locks from his damp forehead.

"Leave them, take me. Please….."

She watched as he flailed his arms in front of him weakly, she took them gently and placed them back down on the bed.

"I'm right here with you," she continued as she lay down on the bed and pulled him gently towards her, mindful of his injuries.

She kissed the top of his head and rubbed her hands gently up and down his body as his grunts and groans eventually lessened until he was quiet once more.

She held him as he mumbled pitifully.

"I'm sorry."

"Shhhhh, it's ok."

She repositioned herself and held him as her own eyes grew heavy; refusing to let the tortured man in her arms go.

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

She let him go and pulled away to regard him.

"Come on, let me drive," she said as she opened the passenger door and made her way round the vehicle.

"Where are we going?"

She held out her hand to him as he jumped off the running board.

"Where we should have taken you a long time ago."

He looked at her quizzically.

"Get in," she instructed firmly as he followed her commands and made himself comfortable in the passenger seat.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: My regular readers will probably recognise the character of Dr Jeff Pearce in this chapter. Please keep in mind that this story is A/U, so he and Horatio have never met before. I hope it doesn't confuse people to have this character cross universes but he was such a good foil for the stubborn Lieutenant in my previous stories that I wanted to use him in this story too.**

* * *

The drive back to the lab was uncomfortable for both men; neither said a word to the other until Eric's frustration finally got the better of him.

"You look like you've got something you wanna say, Wolfe. Why don't you just spit it out?"

Ryan ignored the fearsome glare his passenger was giving him as he kept his eyes firmly on the road.

"Whatever it is, just say it," Eric persisted, clenching his jaw menacingly.

Ryan let out a jagged sigh.

"You know as well as I do what happened back there."

"Nothing happened."

"That's my point, Eric. That guy had a gun pointed straight at H and he stood there and did nothing, he could have been killed….you could have been killed."

"Maybe he shouldn't be out in the field at the moment," Ryan finished quietly, knowing the reaction his comments would bring.

"Are you serious?!"

"Eric, he froze. We can't afford to have someone on the team we can't trust."

"That's rich coming from you, Wolfe. Do you have any idea how many times Horatio's protected you and taken your sorry ass back, one screw up after another?"

Eric's words stung, yet Ryan knew they were true. Horatio had placed his faith in him even when he himself had given his superior little reason to do so. Each time he had messed things up the Lieutenant would inevitably take him to one side and put him back on the straight and narrow.

Couldn't Eric see that he already hated himself for questioning Horatio's use to the team?

He felt like he was betraying the one person who had always stood by him, taking him back and placing his trust in him time after time. Was this how he would repay him?

"I've been called to meet someone from IAB this afternoon," he said quietly.

"You can't tell them what happened. It'll end H's career."

"Don't you think I know that, Eric?"

"If you do this, Ryan, it'll be the end of your career too. No one will ever trust you again…..you don't sell out a brother."

The younger man nodded his head sadly as he spent the rest of the journey back to the lab contemplating exactly what he would do.

* * *

Calleigh pulled up in the wide expanse of the building's driveway and killed the engine on the Hummer, watching her silent passenger from the corner of her eye.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" she asked him quietly.

He shook his head slightly.

"I'll wait out here for you then."

He turned to look at her.

"You don't need to do that; I'll find my own way back."

"I told you, we're doing this together. Ok?"

He gave her a shy smile before exiting the vehicle and making his way into the building.

After climbing two flights of stairs he finally found himself in a plush-looking waiting room, he made his way awkwardly over to the young receptionist, clearing his throat before he spoke.

"Excuse me ma'am, I…..uh…I have an appointment at 4pm," he muttered awkwardly.

The casually-dressed young woman looked down at the book on the desk and smiled sweetly at him.

"Have a seat, sir. Dr Pearce will be with you shortly."

"I'd rather stand, ma'am. If you don't mind."

The blonde-haired woman blushed a bright scarlet at the charming man before her, taken back by his gentlemanly manners. Most of the clients who frequented her place of work were often rude or dismissive, too wrapped up in their own problems to afford her any kind of common courtesy.

This man was different, she could see the pain written clearly on his face and yet he hadn't allowed his own turmoil to cloud his treatment of those around him. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had ever spoken to her so respectfully.

She watched him flinch as the door to her colleague's office opened.

"Your next appointment is here, Dr Pearce," she beamed at him as her eyes led him to the stiff-looking man standing in the corner of the room.

"Thanks, Sally," he returned with a smile of his own before turning his attention to the man across the room.

"Mr Caine, if you'd like to follow me."

He saw the reluctance in the other man as he stood side-on, as if sizing the doctor up.

After a short pause, he smiled as his client followed him into his office.

He sat himself down in his comfy office chair and ensconced himself behind his desk, watching the man before him carefully.

"Feel free to sit down," he said amiably.

"I'd rather stand," the man responded stiffly.

The doctor shrugged his shoulders.

"You know, you can tell the most about a person by their feet."

His offhand comment had the desired effect as his client finally met his gaze.

"It's the biggest giveaway to how a person is really feeling," he continued.

"Right now, yours are pointed towards the door."

Horatio kicked himself for looking down at his own feet and finding that his designer leather shoes were pointed firmly in the direction of the room's only way out.

"And I'm sure you're going to tell me what that means, Doctor," he ground out sarcastically.

"I think you already know what it means, Lieutenant."

The gazes of the two men met once more.

"Would you be more comfortable if I called you John or perhaps Mr Kelly?"

The psychologist knew exactly what he was doing. He'd read his new client's medical records and police files extensively in the few hours previous to his current session. At times he found it hard to believe that he was reading someone's life story and not some fictional creation of a writer's warped mind.

The man before him glared menacingly, the muscles in his face twitching of their own accord.

"What's the point of me being here if you already know all about me?"

"The point of you being here is because your friends and colleagues are worried about you, and with good cause it would seem."

He was rewarded with another fierce look.

"How about we start with some introductions. My name is Jeff Pearce; I've been a clinical psychologist for the last 25 years both here and in a number of different states around the country. How about you?"

Horatio stared intently at the man before him, much like a predator stalking its prey. He looked harmless enough in his light blue shirt, open slightly at the collar, with brown slacks and matching loafers. He was not naïve enough to believe that the man in front of him was as docile as he seemed, his short-cropped greying hair and the multitude of lines creasing his friendly face were testament to the fact that the man had experienced his own share of pain in his life.

"You already know everything there is to know about me," he finally spoke with a dramatic sigh.

"Humour me then, I always find medical reports so clinical," Jeff replied distastefully as he fingered at the sheets of paper on his desk.

Horatio stood side-on, figuring that the doctor's silly game was nothing but a waste of both of their time.

"Fine. I'm Lieutenant Horatio Caine of the Miami Dade Police Department; I've been a police officer for the last 30 years. I'm 6'1", 175lbs and my inside leg measurement is 29 inches. That enough information for you?"

Jeff smiled at his client; he had seen many men like Horatio Caine before. Men who were filled with self-hatred and loathing, men who didn't like talking about their feelings.

"You obviously hold a great deal of anger in you at the moment," Jeff observed, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "What made you come here?"

"It wasn't my choice," the man scowled as he paced the lengthy room.

"Alexx made me come here," Horatio finished after a long pause.

"Ah, yes, Alexx Woods. A fearsome lady and not to be crossed," Jeff replied as he nodded his head. "But that's not the reason you came here."

Horatio stopped his pacing, his head shooting in the other man's direction.

"I'll ask you again, what made you come here today?"

Horatio began pacing again, back and forth across the carpeted floor as he tried to a suitable answer to the innocent question. Try as he might, he found himself coming up short each time.

"You're the mighty Horatio Caine, the city's hero. No one can make you do something you don't want to do."

"You've come here because you realise that you need help," the doctor continued when he realised that his reluctant client would not respond.

"I don't need help," Horatio shot back, his voice rising in time with his temper.

"There's no shame in it, you were the victim of a vicious and barbaric crime…."

"I'm not a victim!"

Jeff remained behind the desk, his face a picture of calmness and serenity as the man before him shot from the far end of the room, breathing heavily as he tried to regain his composure.

"Horatio, you have to accept that what happened to you wasn't your fault. Until you come to terms with the fact that you were a victim you're never going to get past this."

He kept his eye on the tense figure as he watched the fight slowly drain from him.

"It was my fault. I brought all of this on myself," Horatio whispered as he finally spoke.

"Not from what I gather," Jeff replied as he flicked through the file in front of him.

"Tell me what your captors did to you."

He watched as the other man flinched slightly before beginning to pace the room again restlessly.

"You've read the reports; you know what they did to me."

Jeff looked down at his desk once more before regarding his client once more.

"I've got a catalogue of your injuries and the dozens of medical interventions that were used to save your life but that doesn't tell me what they did to you."

Sensing that Horatio was reluctant to talk about it, he tried a slightly different tack.

"You look like you could do with a drink, coffee?" he offered as he made his way over to a small desk at the corner of the room. He didn't wait to be answered as he went about pouring the other man a cup of steaming black coffee, walking towards him and handing it over.

"They abused you, didn't they?"

Horatio flinched again and involuntarily squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that he had given the clearest indication yet that the cunning psychologist was on the right track.

"Physically?"

He kept his gaze towards the floor, giving no indication that the other man was correct in his assessment.

"Mentally?"

Silence.

"Sexually?"

He felt as if he had been punched in the gut, the last question had been something that he had not been expecting. His head shot up as he shook his head vigorously.

"It's common to feel inadequate after suffering such an ordeal. How have you been functioning recently?"

"How do you mean?"

"Physically…."

He looked away again, shielding his eyes from the man who seemed to have the measure of him. It was an unnerving prospect, to think that someone could see past his bravado and see the scared and frightened man underneath.

"I've had no…..problems," he replied after a beat or two.

The psychologist sighed at him.

"This isn't going to work unless you're honest with me."

Horatio remained silent.

"I can tell by the way you hold yourself that you're barely functioning, even in the physical sense. It's ok to admit that you can't cope."

"I can cope!" he shot back aggressively.

"That's not what Alexx tells me….She says that there was an incident last night, tell me about that."

"No."

"You're not the first man who hasn't been able to function sexually after such a brutal ordeal. It's quite common you know."

"I don't want to talk about this," Horatio growled as he balled his hands into fists.

Jeff continued on, years of experience telling him that the man before him needed to hear this, whether he wanted to or not.

"Victims of torture often can't bear to be touched; their libidos either disappear or go into overdrive. Some people begin to engage in some very unhealthy practices in order to deal with their urges or lack thereof."

He remained in his non-threatening position as he continued.

"Have you ever had any problems getting an erection before?"

Horatio's head shot up at the blunt question.

"From what I've seen of you on the local news I can tell that you pride yourself on being a strong and vibrant man. It must really eat at you to realise that you're not quite as virile as you once were."

"Image is everything to you, Horatio. Your ego and self-belief has taken a hell of a knock recently, the idea of not being able to cope frightens you but you need to come to terms with your own mortality."

"Have you quite finished?" Horatio spat sarcastically.

"No, I've only just started," Jeff replied evenly.

"I suggest that we start with two sessions a week then see how we go from there."

"What makes you think I'll come back?"

He regarded the uncooperative man before him.

"Because you're stubborn man and you have people around you that care a great deal about you. If you won't do it for yourself then do it for them."

"Come back and see me, same time, the day after tomorrow."

"Is that a request or an order?" Horatio responded as he narrowed his eyes at the placid doctor.

"I'll leave that for you to decide."


	25. Chapter 25

Eric sat with his head in his hands as he mulled over the incident earlier in the day, unwilling to admit to himself that it had shook him more than he thought possible. In all of the years that he had known Horatio he had simply never had even the slightest of reasons to question the man's courage or commitment to his job.

Now, he wasn't so sure.

He had seen with his own eyes how his brother in law had stood frozen on the spot as he stared down the barrel of a 9mm Berretta handgun. Horatio had the best aim of any cop he'd known and was not a man who would hesitate to shoot should the need arise, and yet he had. The perp had almost got a shot off and had it not been for Ryan's decisive action they could very well have ended up back at the hospital, the place that Horatio had worked so hard to escape from only a few short months ago.

He had told Andy himself last night how he questioned whether something was missing with Horatio but even now he didn't want to believe that it was true. Andy had tried to lift his spirits with an adventurous story about his old partner, creating the fanciful image of a heroic police officer who had gone above and beyond the call of duty on more than one occasion.

* * *

**Flashback. Last night:**

Andy chewed on another piece of steak, washing it down with a mouthful of soda and not caring about the other diners who were frowning in disgust at his eating habits.

"John's got a hell of a reputation in this city," he observed as he swallowed the mouthful of chewed food.

"The papers were full of it after he was found. People think a lot of him, don't they?"

Eric gave him a warm smile.

"Pretty much everyone apart from the criminals, yeah."

"He was like that back in New York. Always prepared to go that extra mile if it meant helping someone…..always putting others first."

"That's Horatio for you," the younger man responded.

"Did you ever look at him and just think, 'You got a death wish or something?'"

"All the time, man."

"Gah, it used to drive me up the wall. The way he'd run headlong into situation without giving a thought to his own safety…..He was like the cat with nine lives, I tell ya."

Deep down, Eric was glad that he wasn't the only one who fretted over Horatio's complete lack of concern for his own safety and well-being. He was well aware that the Lieutenant's tendency to place himself in harm's way had been exacerbated by Marisol's death and he often questioned if Horatio was doing it deliberately in order to be able to return to the woman he loved so dearly.

"It drove me and his wife nuts," Andy added after chewing another mouthful of steak and potato.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1990:**

John Kelly thumped at the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet heavily as he rubbed a weary pair of hands over his tired face, wincing as he heard the woman lying next to him groan sleepily.

"What time is it?" she asked croakily.

"Just after six. Go back to sleep."

He pulled the covers back and reached down to the floor for his boxer shorts before pulling them on and sitting on the side of the bed he shared with his girlfriend of just over a year.

"But it's a Saturday, Johnny. Where are you going?"

He leant over and kissed her gently on the lips before standing up.

"Back to the precinct. I need to find this kid, Lori."

She let out a frustrated sigh as she rolled onto her back, her mind casting back to the fraught conversation they had shared the night before.

She had launched into a tirade as soon as he had dragged his weary frame through the front door of the apartment that they shared, demanding to know why he was so late coming home again for the third night in a row.

She had ignored his attempts to convince her of the importance of the work he was doing as he and his colleagues attempted to trace the whereabouts of a seven year old boy who had gone missing several days ago. The deeper the detectives delved into the case the more obvious it was becoming that the boy had most likely been taken by his father, a man who was struggling to cope with the breakdown of his marriage and the loss of his only son.

It wasn't that she didn't care about what happened to the boy, of course she did, but all she could see was the toll it was taking on the man she loved. The past few days had drained him of the vitality that she admired so much about him, so wrapped up as he was in his obsessive need to find the child.

Her pleading for him to take a step back from the case fell on deaf ears as he continued to push himself beyond his limits to find the boy as both of them became frustrated at the other's inability to see things from their partner's point of view.

She knew that he cared about his job and the public that he served to protect but it was beginning to become a thorny issue between the two of them. His passion was one of the reasons she fell in love with him but it also became one of the biggest sources of frustration about him.

Tired from another exhausting day, he had finally lost patience with her as she continued to follow him through the apartment, berating him for doing his job until he couldn't take it anymore. He felt his frayed temper snap completely as he turned on her and snarled.

"Leave it, Lori," he warned as she took another step closer to him.

She ignored his command as she felt her anger take over any semblance of rational thought that she had left, slapping him firmly across the cheek and attempting to do so again before his right hand shot out and grabbed at her wrist painfully.

They had both stood there, panting as they shot daggers at each other with their eyes until he leant forward and kissed her roughly.

The passion, anger and emotions spilled from both of them as they ripped at each other's clothes, stumbling towards the bedroom as they kissed each other hungrily. Neither of them conscious of anything except their need for one another as they stood naked before coming together once more, dissolving into one passionate embrace after another.

She came back to the present as he pulled his pants on and made his way over to her side of the bed and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise."

"You'd better," she replied as she opened an eye, feigning sleep.

He pulled the department-issued sedan up outside the precinct and sent a quick prayer up to the Heavens that today would be the day that they would finally find the boy and be able to bring him home to his distraught mother.

All of the cases he worked were difficult, one way or another, but there was something so much more distressing when they involved innocent children. He had always prided himself on being able to keep his temper in check, even in the most trying of circumstances, yet there was something about cases involving children that made him want to tear suspects limb from limb in order to get the answers he needed.

He stamped down on his feeling of frustration as he climbed the stairs to the squad room and found his partner of two and a half years nursing a bottle of aspirin and a cup of water. Knowing better than to question what Andy had got up to the night before, he sat down quietly at his desk, opposite his colleague.

"Shouldn't you be at home with your lady friend?" the older man groused as he leant his head on his left hand.

"This is more important, Lori understands," he lied as he fiddled with the pencil on his desk.

"If I had a broad like that waiting for me at home I wouldn't be sitting here with my finger up my ass chasing shadows."

He ignored Andy's crude language as he ran his eyes over the case file for the umpteenth time, hoping to find some shred of evidence that he might have missed the day before.

"Anything new come up?" he asked his partner evenly.

Andy let out a bitter snort as he gave his young colleague a withering look.

"Nothing since the last time you asked, kid."

He kept a watchful eye on Andy over the next few hours as he made call after call, chasing up on witnesses in the unlikely event that they had seen or remembered something new and pertinent to the whereabouts of the missing boy.

Throughout the whole time his partner sat at his desk, griping and grousing at everyone and everything that had the misfortune to come within a 50 yard radius of him. He began to feel a simmering resentment towards Andy as he found himself increasingly carrying the load for his disinclined colleague.

The noise of his chair scraping across the linoleum floor caused several sets of eyes to fall on him; he shook his head angrily before making his way to the break room as he searched for a steaming cup of coffee to calm his frazzled nerves.

Pouring himself a large mug he leant his head against the wall as he swallowed a mouthful of the scalding liquid, hissing as the bitter taste hit the back of his throat. The injection of caffeine into his body felt good, he could feel its energising effects course through his veins as the deep, rich liquid hit the bottom of his empty stomach.

He had forgone breakfast and lunch, his mind centred on one thing, finding the missing boy. He was well aware that his need to locate the missing boy had long since strayed into the territory of becoming an obsession to him and yet he wasn't really sure why.

He needed some peace and quiet in order to get his thoughts straight, the hustle and bustle of the squad room was no longer conducive to productive thought processes. Happy that he had found some solitude, he became unreasonably angered when he heard a knock at the door.

"Uh….John, there's a call for you on line one…the…uh…the lady says it's important," Greg Medavoy stuttered as he poked his head nervously round the door.

Taking another pointless phone call from another crackpot who'd rung the NYPD tip line was the last thing he needed right now. He'd just about had his fill of madmen and time-wasters who had sent him and his colleagues on numerous wild goose chases over the past few days.

He tipped back the rest of his coffee and swallowed it down heavily as he followed his colleague grudgingly back into the squad room.

He picked up the phone on his desk with little hope that the caller would have any useful information.

"Kelly," he answered half-heartedly as he leant his head to one side, cradling the ear piece between his head and shoulder.

"Detective, Billy called," the missing boy's mother sobbed down the line.

"He says he's at the Brooklyn Bridge and that he has Timmy. You have to help him," she pleaded.

He scribbled the details down quickly as he reassured the tearful woman.

"We're on our way there right now, Mrs Bridges. We'll bring Timmy back safely, I promise."

Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair as words spread around the room, he signalled for Andy to follow him through the gate and downstairs towards his car.


	26. Chapter 26

The hectic journey to the Brooklyn Bridge seemed torturously slow at times as the Saturday afternoon traffic slowed the two detectives down considerably. A crowd of onlookers had already begun to form as they finally made their way onto the bridge.

Deciding that trying to force their vehicle through the logjam of cars on the bridge would be pointless, John Kelly jumped out of the car and began running towards Billy Bridges, the man who was holding his petrified seven year old son hostage as he inched closer and closer to the edge of the giant metal structure.

Andy shuffled along as quickly as his considerable bulk would allow him as he struggled to get anywhere near the pace his young and athletic partner was maintaining. Even several yards away, he could hear John trying to reason with the panicked man.

"Billy, it's me, Detective Kelly," the detective said as he tried inching closer.

"Stay back or I swear I'll jump!"

He raised both hands in a gesture on surrender as he tried to calm the clearly agitated man.

"Ok, I'm gonna stay right here, but we need to talk about this, Billy."

Dressed in dirty, oil-stained clothes, Billy Bridges clung on to his son tighter as he screwed his eyes shut.

"He's my son; she had no right to keep him from me!"

"I hear you, Billy, but doing this isn't going to help your case. You need to let Timmy go so we can sort this out. I promise you that if you let him go that I'll do everything I can to make sure you get to see him whenever you want, how does that sound?"

Billy Bridges was a disillusioned young man, once happy with a loving son he was now no more than the shell of the man he used to be. His tendency to gamble away his weekly wages on poker games every Friday night had caused considerable strain on his marriage to his beloved wife, Lucy.

She had called time on their marriage six months ago and since then he had fallen into a pit of despair and loathing. He had lost everything, his family, his home, his job. One by one they had all deserted him in one way or another as his dirty blond hair seemed to sprout new grey hairs with each day that passed. He had lines on his face that no man in his mid-thirties should ever have as the endless days of drinking and gambling had taken their toll on his youthful features.

Being told by Lucy that he could no longer see his beloved son had been the final straw for him, something inside him had snapped. He decided that if he couldn't have contact with his son then neither could she.

John inched forward slowly as he saw uncertainty flicker across Billy's face, he hoped that the man was about to step away from the side railing and hand his frightened young boy over to him so that he could return the kid safely to his mother.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion as Billy lifted the slight frame of his son and threw him bodily over the side of the bridge, plunging him into the cold and unforgiving waters of the East River below.

He recalled later how Andy had bellowed at him to stay put but he paid no attention as he quickly divested himself of his coat and suit jacket before diving into the frigid water below.

It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, but now that the ice cold water had made contact with his warm body it seemed like a fanciful thing to do, to jump into the East River on a cold January afternoon was akin to suicide.

He could see Timmy struggling to keep his head above water as the cold began to seep into his bones, he could tell that the boy was fading fast, swimming for all he was worth he made his way to the shivering figure and grabbed him under the arms, keeping his head above water.

"Timmy, I need you to look at me," he commanded as he shook the boy gently.

Gradually, a pair of dazed brown eyes focused on him.

"Good boy, I want you to grab onto my neck and whatever you do don't let go, you understand?"

He wasn't really sure just how much Timmy Bridges understood of his instructions but he let out a sigh of relief as the boy climbed onto his back and grasped his arms around his neck. He knew that it would not be long before he was just as dazed and uncooperative as the boy he was trying to save and so he took a deep breath and began the agonisingly slow swim back to solid ground.

His belief that he and Timmy would make it to the banks of the river began fading as the freezing temperature of the water began to seep into his own bones. He could feel the burning in his lungs and muscles and every stroke made it seem like his whole body was on fire. He could hear his heartbeat thumping in his ears as his vision began getting fuzzy and yet still he swam, forcing one arm and then the other through the powerful stream of the river.

Several times he had felt his head slip under the water as he choked on yet another mouthful of revolting river water, coughing heavily as he spat it out. Glancing up, he could see that they had almost made it when his vision dimmed before turning completely black.

* * *

"John, no!" Andy called as he watched his partner dive off the side of the bridge and into the cold water below.

He let out a huge sigh of relief as he saw John's head break through the surface as the younger man swam furiously towards the young boy who was flailing helplessly in the river's current.

_Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do! _He thought as he instructed the uniformed officers who had assembled to arrest Billy Bridges and read him his rights. He would deal with the man after, once he knew John and the kid were ok.

Shuffling as fast as he could, he made his way past all of the gridlocked cars until he finally found himself by the river bank, never once taking his eyes off the scene in the water below. By the time he had made it his breath was heaving in the cold winter air, he ran a stressed and shaky hand over his balding head as he watched a couple of uniformed officers reach out to drag his partner and the boy back towards dry land.

With a couple of strained heaves they had managed to drag the sopping wet figures out of the water and quickly covered both of them with blankets. He could hear the sound of an ambulance coming nearer, its siren wailing loudly but he paid it no attention as he stalked over to the shivering man struggling to sit up on the frozen ground.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he shouted at John as the younger man looked up at him, his drenched red hair plastered to his forehead.

"The kid, is he ok?"

Andy could see how badly John was shaking and silently wished that the ambulance would hurry up and get there.

"He's gonna be fine, John. Which is more than I can say for you, you know Laura is gonna have your hide for this."

He smirked as a pained expression crossed John's face before it was replaced with a wince as he coughed violently.

He bent down towards him and pulled the blanket tighter around his quivering body, feeling just how icy cold the man was.

"Bus will be here in a minute, John. Just hang on, ok?"

The younger man raised his head as he waved Andy's concern away.

"I'll be fine, just make sure the kid gets checked out."

"No, you're going too," he insisted as he folded his arms over his chest, partly in defiance and partly to try to warm himself a little in the freezing air.

Fifteen minutes later he was making the long trek back to the car, dreading the visit he was about to make. He felt as if John had got the better end of the deal, climbing into the back of the ambulance and on his way to Lennox Hill Hospital. He didn't have to deal with Hurricane Laura who was likely to be more than a little displeased with her boyfriend's heroics. The one thing that made the thought of visiting her a little more bearable was the fact that she would inevitably save most of her anger for John when she finally got hold of him.

* * *

He had to admit that he felt decidedly better after the long, hot shower at the hospital now that he was lying back on a hospital bed in the ER in a dry gown. The doctors and nurses had plied him with vast amounts of hot tea and coffee and had tried everything in their power to convince him to stay overnight so that they could observe him before discharging him.

He had point-blank refused, all he wanted was a change of clothes and a hot meal at home with Lori even though he knew that she would tear a strip off of him for his foolish actions this afternoon.

He lifted the cup of scalding black coffee to his lips as another shudder ran through his body. Every muscle in his being felt as if it were on fire as he tried to raise the cup, it seemed as if it weighed a tonne as his arm shook and dotted the hospital sheets with its dark liquid as he gave up and placed it back on the tray.

He could hear her feminine voice from down the hallway and also the gravelly tones of his partner; he winced as he listened to the venom in his girlfriend's voice and attempted to sink down into the bed as she got closer, closing his eyes when he heard her footsteps as she stomped up to his bed.

"Don't pretend to be asleep," she snarled in his ear.

He opened one eye slightly and gave her a sheepish smile.

"Hi, honey," he said as he tried to mollify her.

"Don't _honey_ me, you idiot. What the hell did you think you were playing at, jumping in the river like that?"

He braced himself for the tirade that he knew was to come, a tongue-lashing that he fully deserved. After a minute or two of silence he opened his eyes and was surprised to find Lori sitting down on the chair by his bed with a small smile on her face.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" she said softly as the panic and anger dissipated as she realised that the man she had fallen so deeply in love with appeared to be no worse for wear after his dip in the freezing waters of the East River.

"I love you," he whispered as he gave her his best attempt at looking remorseful.

"You're a complete pain in the ass," she huffed good-naturedly.

"But I'm your pain in the ass, right?"

She felt any anger she'd had left dissipate as he looked at her with his soulful blue eyes and in that moment she knew that she loved him, faults and all.

Leaning over, she placed a tender kiss on his lips as she framed his face with her hands.

"Yes, you are."


	27. Chapter 27

It had been three days since his impromptu dip in the East River and he still felt like shit. At first he put it down to a seasonal cold but the wet cough and pounding in his head had increased day by day until he felt like laying his weary body down in a cool, dark room and sleeping for a week.

The alarm at his bedside had other ideas though as it beeped incessantly at him until he reached out an aching arm and thumped it into silence. Rolling onto his back quickly became a bad idea as a vicious cough wracked his weary body.

His hacking and coughing had also woken the woman sleeping next to him; she sat up slowly and regarded him with sleepy eyes.

"You look like crap, Johnny."

"Thanks," he deadpanned as he rubbed at his eyes with the palms of his hands.

He pulled himself out of bed and made his way to the bathroom, hoping that a shower and fresh clothes would energise him for the long shift ahead at the Precinct.

The hot water had little effect; he trudged from the bathroom feeling worse than when he went in. He smiled his gratitude at Lori as she handed him a cup of coffee and set about preparing some breakfast.

He didn't want to disappoint her and so he made a monumental effort to at least eat half of the food that she had prepared him, swallowing deeply in a bid to keep the contents of his stomach where they were.

By the time he had made it to the Precinct he felt worse and could only imagine how he looked. Not good judging by the look his grizzled partner gave him as he dragged his fatigued carcass into the squad room.

"You look done in, pal."

"Thanks, Andy," he replied sourly as he lowered himself slowly into his desk chair.

"Laura been keeping you up at night?"

With immense effort, he managed to raise his head from his hands.

"I wish," he wheezed as another coughing fit overcame him, loud enough that most of the people in the room had stopped whatever they were doing to look at him.

"I'm serious, John. You don't look good," Andy persisted as he drained the remainder of his coffee.

To the older man, John looked like he himself felt most mornings after drinking himself into oblivion, he could sympathise with the way his partner was feeling right now.

John waved away his concern.

"I'm fine, Andy. I just need a coffee."

The only problem being that the coffee had little effect as the throbbing in his head intensified, all of the day-to-day noises in the squad room seemed far too loud as the run-down old building began turning strange colours and shapes before his eyes.

Andy watched with concern as his partner became less steady by the minute, were it not for his own swift response, the younger man would have face-planted straight onto the dirty floor beneath him. He caught him under the arm and was shocked by how pale and hot he seemed.

"That's it, kid. I'm taking you home," he declared as he pulled him into an upright position.

John offered little in the way of resistance as he guided him out of the bullpen and down the two flights of stairs towards his car. By the time they had made it that far the younger man had leant most of his weight on his partner as the use of his legs began to desert him.

By the time he had driven him home, John had all but fallen asleep in the passenger seat as his head lolled to one side. Andy could see the perspiration beginning to form on his head and winced at what was likely to come.

He roused him as best he could before half-carrying and half-dragging the tall man's frame towards his apartment. He cursed the fact that John lived in a building that had no elevators as they began the punishing assent of the four flights of stairs that would bring them to the front door of the apartment.

With one arm holding him up, he fished in John's trouser pocket for his keys before guiding him into the living space. It suddenly crossed his mind that he had never actually stepped foot inside before, he placed his heavy and mostly uncooperative load down on the couch before heading in search of the bedroom.

It took a few moments, but after opening several doors he finally found the master bedroom, unable to detach himself from his detective instincts, he gave the room a cursory look.

He smiled as he saw the evidence of two people sharing a living space, the bedroom definitely had a woman's touch to it but there were enough of John's things to prove that he inhabited the room too.

He saw the picture of the two of them on the bedside cabinet, Laura laughing as John held her close and nuzzled into her neck. They looked like the picture of happiness and he felt unreasonably jealous of them, he stamped down on the sour part of his subconscious that hoped that the relationship wouldn't last.

After hearing a thumping noise, he quickly made his way back to the living room to find his addled partner attempting to raise himself from the couch with little in the way of luck. He took pity on the man and grabbed him under his arms and dragged him to his feet.

"Come on, let's get you to bed," he muttered as he supported the younger man to place one wobbly foot in front of the other.

John turned his head to look at him as he walked, giving Andy a goofy grin.

"Lori, I thought you'd never ask."

He stood still, shocked for a moment, before he continued to drag John into the bedroom and settled him down on the bed, catching hold of him when he toppled forward dangerously.

He really wished that Laura was here, the last thing he wanted to do was undress his delirious partner but he realised that he had no choice, the man was burning up and the fever was unlikely to break any time soon, especially if he was fully dressed.

With one hand supporting John's lanky frame, he went about awkwardly loosening the other man's tie and then undoing his shirt only to be stopped by a shaky hand that felt scorching hot.

"Slower, Lori. Let's make it last," the younger man said as he ran his thumb up and down his partner's hand.

_Dear God! _Andy thought as he swatted the hand away and continued undressing the man that he had begun to regard as a son.

Having removed John's shirt and vest he knew the worst was to come as he reached out a reluctant hand to his belt and trousers, freezing in place as his partner cupped his face tenderly.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"No, kid, you haven't," he quipped as he moved his head away and finally managed to pull the pants from the other man's body.

He took pity on him as he saw him sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxer shorts, the pale tinge to John's skin was only marred by the patches of blotchy red that dotted his face and chest.

With a tenderness that he didn't realise he possessed, he gently guided his partner back towards the pillows and pulled the duvet up around his shoulders, tucking him in the way he used to with Andy Jnr.

He swallowed down on the feelings of bitterness and regret that bubbled to the surface as he stroked a couple of damp locks from John's face before leaving the room and placing a call to Laura.

* * *

He looked terrible when she entered their bedroom, having received a harried phone call from Andy a few short hours ago. She had made her excuses at work and left, returning home to her lover's side as quickly as she could.

His laboured breathing was evident even from the other side of the room as he lay in sweat-soaked sheets, mumbling incoherently as his head tossed from side to side.

Making her way over to him, she reached out a hand and placed it on his shivering shoulder, alarmed to find how hot he felt.

"Christ, Johnny. What the hell have you done to yourself?" she mumbled to herself as she saw his eyes open slightly, frightened by the fact that the orbs behind them were dazed and glassy.

His hand shooting out towards her took her by surprise as she weaved out of the way of the flailing hands.

"Billy, don't do this!" he called out, his open eyes vacant and unseeing.

"Timmy needs you, you can't do this to him," he pleaded as tears leaked from his eyes.

"Billy, NO!"

She caught him as he sat upright, his breath heaving as he choked and tried to clear the build-up of fluid in his lungs. She held him tightly as wave after wave of hacking coughs battered his exhausted body, feeling his raging fever through her own clothes.

As his struggles lessened she guided him back down towards the pillows and made a call.

It turned into one of the most sleepless nights she had ever experienced as she finally flopped down on the bed next to her lover who had drifted off into exhausted slumber only moments ago.

She had been glad that she was still good friends with her old college roommate, when she had called her she had dropped everything and come straight over.

"Looks like a chest infection," the doctor surmised as she packed her stethoscope away.

"He'll be ok though?" she asked her friend Sherri, still deeply concerned for the man lying in her bed.

"Here's a 'script for some antibiotics, try to keep him hydrated and call me again if his fever doesn't break within the next ten hours."

She took the piece of paper gratefully as she followed the dark-haired physician towards the front door.

"Thanks so much for doing this, Sherri."

The woman gave her a warm smile.

"Sure thing, Laura. Besides, that guy is cute!"

She blushed momentarily before shooing her old friend away.

"Hands off, he's mine!" she replied in jovially.

"Well, if you ever get bored of him, give him my number won't you?"

That conversation seemed like a lifetime ago as she let out a deep breath, risking a quick glance at the man beside her, relieved to find that he hadn't stirred.

She had never really considered herself particularly maternal; perhaps it had something to with the fractious relationship she shared with her own mother. Still, she surprised herself with how quickly she took to nurse-maiding her sick lover as his fever climbed throughout the night.

He had been delirious for the most part, mumbling and waving his arms at unseen demons in his mind. When he wasn't ranting he was vomiting and his inability to keep any fluids down concerned her. Keeping up the steady rotation of cooling cloths on his face and chest seemed to bring his scorching temperature down a little and by the early hours of the morning she had managed to get him to swallow some water and keep it down.

She had almost fallen asleep next to him when she felt his hot skin touch hers as his hand made contact with her arm. His fever had dropped considerably but his eyes still held the same glazed expression they had last night.

"Lori," he croaked.

"Yeah?" she asked tiredly.

"Marry me."


	28. Chapter 28

**Miami. Present day:**

"How did it go?" Calleigh asked quietly as she watched Horatio pull himself wearily into the passenger seat and buckle his seatbelt.

"Fine," he mumbled evasively as he avoided looking at her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Can we just go home, please?"

She felt slightly hurt that he would not divulge the details of his visit with the psychologist but took strength from the fact that he had actually stayed with the specialist for nearly an hour. She'd had visions of him leaving the building within five minutes of entering it.

He closed his eyes and leant his head back against the headrest, listening as the sounds of rush hour traffic passed by their vehicle. Perhaps the shrink was right; maybe he would never get past this until he admitted that he was a victim.

_No, _he thought to himself, _it's your job to protect victims, not be one yourself._

He had always viewed himself as a protector of the weak and needy, a protector of victims who were unable to stand up for themselves. He needed to be strong; admitting he was a victim would mean that he was weak too.

It felt emasculating to think that he had been drawing strength from a woman, especially one that he had such deep and complex feelings for. Calleigh Duquesne was no shy and retiring wallflower and perhaps had more guts than most men he'd met in his life yet the small voice in the back of his head refused to let him believe that the attention she had lavished on him since his rescue was nothing more than a passing phase.

"Come on, let's go in," she said as she pulled the Hummer up in her driveway.

He followed her, like the meek sheep he had become.

* * *

He felt sick as he left the crime lab and made his way slowly to his car. Since joining Horatio's team he had never felt this low, not even when his mentor had to fire him for breaching department policy.

He'd caught the withering look that Eric had given him as their paths crossed a few moments earlier, knowing that the Cuban had little faith that he would protect Horatio in the same way that the Lieutenant had protected him several times before.

A meeting with the feisty IAB officer was the last thing he needed after the harrowing incident earlier in the day. His interview had been the longest two hours of his life as Sargent Craig bombarded him with endless questions about his colleagues.

He'd answered them as best he could, conscious of the need not to give her any rope with which to hang his teammates, but the longer she questioned him the more he found his head spinning as she began to pick holes in his answers, gleaning the kind of truth that she wanted to hear from him.

He needed to get away from the lab and the events of the day; he climbed in his car and sped away to a place that he had promised he would never visit again. He needed to release the tension the best way he knew how, by gambling.

* * *

By showering he had hoped to wash away the day's events, but as he stood under the steaming water he found himself replaying that fateful standoff. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the vision of his own hand shaking as he held his gun and found himself unable to fire off a shot.

After pulling on a pair of jeans he debated whether or not to wear a t-shirt, it was another swelteringly hot evening in Miami, even after the sun had gone down the heavy humidity remained.

Pulling on a t-shirt would make his scars visible and he hated the thought of Calleigh seeing him more marked and broken than he already was. He knew he was making a poor effort of hiding the emotional wounds and decided that it would be better for both of them if they were not reminded of the visible marks he bore every day.

He could hear her soft Southern voice calling him from the bottom of the stairs and heard the concern held within.

"Horatio, could you come down here please. I need your help."

His concern for her overrode his sense of shame at his own appearance as he quietly padded down the stairs, frowning as he saw the anguish clearly written on her face.

He placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"What is it, Sweetheart?"

"Moses," she said as she pointed towards the sliding door. "He won't come in...he's hurt."

Forgetting his own problems, he made his way over to the glass-paned door and opened it slowly, regarding the feline creature sadly.

It was clear that the cat had been in some kind of fight as it sat bedraggled before him, one paw held off the ground and blood visible on his nose and face. It mewed pathetically at him as he cocked his head to one side.

"What have you done, boy?" he asked the cat quietly as he reached out to him.

Moses cocked his head in an imitation of his owner as he hobbled forward a few paces and allowed his master to pick him up.

He wrapped the injured animal securely in his arms as he brought him inside the house and placed him on the kitchen table, checking him over for any other injuries that were less visible.

"Calleigh, could you get your kit from the car?" he asked as he kept his eyes on the cat.

"Sure," she replied, feeling slightly jealous that Moses was reacting so placidly to Horatio, when she had tried to pick him up all he had done was hiss and raise his front paws at her, clearly not wanting to be touched.

It was a heart-warming scene to return to as she found Horatio checking over the cat over with such a tender touch, treating him as if he were made of some precious and rare material.

She handed him the torch when asked and then stood back a few paces to watch him work.

"I'm just going to shine this light on you, Moses. I need to see where you're hurt, I need you to stay still, can you do that for me, boy?"

The cat cocked its head this way and that, as if deciding on whether to grant the human permission to touch him. He gave a mew of approval and stayed still as his owner ran his hands gently over his body.

"Good man," Horatio whispered encouragingly as the cat acquiesced to his commands.

"It looks as though it's just his paw and face, could you get me a bowl of warm water and a cloth, Calleigh?" he asked as he gave her an encouraging smile.

The cat seemed to be putty in his hands as she watched Horatio set about cleaning and bandaging the wound on Moses' front paw and then cleaning the cut on his face which was bad enough to probably leave a scar.

"There you go boy, all done," he said as he finished securing the bandage on Moses' leg, giving him a rub behind his ears.

"What you did, Horatio," she began, pointing at the cat that was lying on the kitchen table, regarding its injured paw intently, "That was amazing."

He shrugged his shoulders as he started tidying items from the table.

"It was nothing special."

"Horatio, he would even let me get near him. But you, he just seemed to trust you and know that you weren't going to hurt him. That's a gift, you know."

He gave her a small smile and a humourless laugh.

"Yes, Horatio Caine: Protector of defenceless animals," he muttered bitterly before adding, "Just a shame I can't protect myself or my colleagues."

"Why are you being so hard on yourself?" she asked as she felt her temper rising.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 8 weeks ago:**

He had an unexpected surprise when he woke that morning, turning his head slightly he saw the slumbering form of his beautiful Southern belle beside him. He felt the pang of guilt as he watched her sleep, a deep frown marring her otherwise stunning visage.

He didn't want to disturb her but unfortunately his bladder had other ideas.

"Calleigh," he croaked as he tried to shift his battered body into a less uncomfortable position.

He was rewarded with a guttural moan from her as her eyes flickered open.

"You ok?" she asked sleepily.

He felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment as he inclined his head towards the en-suite bathroom as best as his injured form would allow.

"I…uh…." He stuttered.

She seemed to instantly understand what he needed and dragged herself from the comfy confines of her duvet and reached out a hand to help Horatio from the bed, steadying him as he stumbled into an upright position.

"I'm sorry," he muttered as they shuffled towards the bathroom, "You shouldn't have to do this."

"It's fine; you'd do the same for me, right?"

He sighed deeply.

"That's not the point; you shouldn't have to do it for _me._"

Perhaps it was the restless night that had shortened her temper but she couldn't help but snap at him and his self-pitying behaviour.

"What makes you think that you're so special that you can't accept help from the people who care about you?"

He flinched at her harsh tone before disengaging himself from her, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

"I can manage from here," he responded stiffly.

She sat on the bed, feeling awful for speaking to him like that. She stood up as she heard the door open again, coming face to face with a glaring Horatio.

Neither spoke as she helped him silently back to the bed, pulling the covers up to his chest before his uninjured hand reached out and took hers weakly.

"I'm not a child," he growled as their eyes met.

"Then stop acting like one," she retorted as she moved his hand and continued what she was doing.

Going to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and Horatio's medications had given her some much-needed space away from him. She had hoped that his discharge from the hospital would be a positive step forwards for him but a dark cloud of misery and depression had once more settled over him.

It was unreasonable to expect him to behave as if nothing had happened but his negative attitude was verging on becoming self-indulgent. What had happened to him was terrible, something that nobody could argue with, but sooner or later he needed to focus some of that energy into getting back on his feet.

She found him much the same way as she had left him, propped up in bed with a multitude of pillows, a scowl tarnishing his handsome face.

"I've brought you breakfast," she declared as she placed the tray on his lap.

"I'm not hungry," he muttered as he closed his eyes.

"Tough."

The firm response was enough to shock him into opening his eyes.

"You need to eat before you can take your pain meds. I made you eggs and bacon. Eat it."

She glared at him until he finally gave in, prodding at the food with a fork.

She sat beside him until he had cleared the plate before handing him several pills and a glass of water to wash them down with. He nodded gratefully as she took the tray away and handed him a mug of strong black coffee.

"Calleigh…I'm sorry," he said quietly as he drained the last vestiges of his coffee.

"It's forgotten," she responded as she gave him a warm smile.

"Let's say no more about it. But I don't want any more grumbling or grousing from you about accepting help, you hear me?"

Her words were firm but her tone was soothing as she spoke, he felt the remnants of his bitterness and anger drain away when he gazed at her beautiful face.

"Yes, ma'am."

Both of them smiled as their eyes met.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

"I'm sorry, Calleigh. Forgive an old fool?"

His rueful smile ate away at the frustration that had built within her.

She closed the distance between them and embraced him tightly.

"Always."

She was right, yet he couldn't find it within him to forgive himself for his past transgressions, but with Calleigh's forgiveness perhaps it was a start.

"I want you to stop beating yourself up about this," she whispered as she kissed his cheek tenderly.

He was powerless against her; he would try his best to do anything she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied even though he had no idea how he would be able to keep his word.


	29. Chapter 29

Ryan sat at the card table, rubbing the cold condensation from his whiskey and coke along his forehead, hoping that the burning taste of the alcohol would take away the bitter taste in his mouth.

He had already played several hands and lost all of them along with a fair amount of money, he needed the thrill of gambling though, it would help to take his mind off of the awful day that had transpired.

He nodded to the dealer that he wanted in on the next game as he threw back the last of his drink and ordered another, his thoughts returning to earlier in the day.

* * *

**Flashback. Earlier today:**

**_3pm. Interview room 1. _**The message read as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, recognising the number immediately.

His heart dropped at the thought of yet another meeting with IAB, he'd been through enough of them to last a lifetime. Was it wrong to hope that they weren't after him for some small transgression or another?

By the time his scheduled interview had rolled around he was more than happy for a reason to leave the glaring visage of Eric behind. The atmosphere between the two men had been frosty at best since the shootout in the warehouse.

He could understand Eric's need to protect Horatio and deep down had always felt slightly jealous of the close bond the two men shared. It was obvious that both of them would lay their lives down for the other but couldn't Eric see that Horatio was placing the rest of the team in danger in his current condition?

As he sat waiting in the interview room he pondered on what he should do, it took him by surprise when a familiar face entered the room.

"CSI Wolfe, so glad you could make it," Sargent Craig sneered as she placed a file down on the table.

It certainly wasn't the face he was expecting to see.

"Hillary?" he asked, disbelievingly.

"It's Sargent Craig to you," she replied dismissively. "I'm here to ask you some questions concerning two of your colleagues, CSI Duquesne and Lieutenant Caine."

He felt momentary relief that IAB were not coming for him, at least, not this time.

"What is this about?" he asked as he slumped forwards on the table, his head resting in his left hand as his elbow made contact with the wooden surface.

She asked him question after question about his colleagues, hoping to wear him down and force him into making a mistake that would give her the ammunition that would allow her to place the blame on at least one of her intended targets.

It came as somewhat of a relief to Ryan that she did not seem aware of the events that had transpired earlier in the day and for that he was extremely grateful. He wasn't even sure what he would do with the information himself, yet he knew the burden of carrying such a secret was likely to become too heavy to bear sooner rather than later.

He answered her questions as best he could yet found himself more than a little distracted by the IAB officer's presence. It made him question just what had happened to the young and carefree Hillary Craig he knew so well from the academy over ten years ago.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 2000:**

"Hey, Hil, how's it going?"

Hillary Craig turned her head to the left and smiled as she saw her fellow officer-in-training, Ryan Wolfe amble towards her. She admired the way his uniform hugged his trim and athletic body.

"Ryan, good to see you," she replied as she gave him a friendly peck on the cheek.

"How was firearms training?"

"Good. What about your sensitivity training?"

She let out a small laugh as she saw the disgusted look on his face, he was clearly not pleased to be forced to take the training sessions but it was a required element for all male academy students if they wanted to progress to becoming a fully-certified police officer.

"I don't get why it's only us guys that have to do all that touchy feely stuff. Some of the female cadets I've met could sure do with a little sensitivity training."

A goofy grin crossed her face at Ryan's flippant remark, she'd almost felt sorry for him after he had been turned down by nearly all of the female members of their training group as he tried repeatedly to get even one of them to go out on a date with him, his efforts had remained fruitless so far.

"Maybe it's got something to do with you being such a small fry, Ryan."

He looked affronted by the remark.

"It's not size but what you do with it that counts," he retorted quickly as he folded his arms over his broad chest.

"Keep telling yourself that, Wolfe," she retorted as she patted him on the shoulder and walked away only stopping when she heard him call her name.

"You wanna go for a drink tonight?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure, little man, why not?"

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

"What happened to you, Hil?" Ryan asked as he gave the IAB officer a concerned look.

She refused to make eye contact with him, knowing that if she did she would likely confess to the reasons why she had sunk so low as to be an agent for the department that all good officers despised.

She risked a quick glance at her former colleague and was dismayed when their eyes met. She didn't want him to see what she had become, how forces beyond her control had led her to take this path, a path that she had no real desire to be on.

No, it would be better to let Ryan think that she was no more than the hated figure her fellow officers had made her out to be. Hiding behind the image of a ballsy member of the rat squad made it easier for her to convince everyone around her that she was to be avoided. She didn't want them to see the stress and toll her job took on her, how it had taken her friends and loved ones away from her until nothing was left but a bitter shadow of the woman she used to be.

It was easier if everyone hated her, she could live with her image as a cold and unfeeling woman, as frigid as a cold winter's day in Colorado, for that was what she had become.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 2002:**

Having graduated from the Miami Dade Police Academy almost two years ago, Hillary Craig was loving her time as an officer of the law. It was something that she had always wanted to be, her father and grandfather had both been cops and so it seemed like a natural progression for her to join the police force too.

Her mother and brother were less than happy about her choice of career, both knew first-hand the toll it had taken on her father, Phillip Craig had died at the relatively young age of 53 and his wife, Mary, was certain that the stress of his job had something to do with the massive heart attack that had killed the man she loved. There was nothing the paramedics could do when the ambulance arrived as she was told that her husband had likely died even before his lifeless body had slumped to the floor in their living room.

Still, Hillary wasn't going to let her family's displeasure at her vocation stand in the way of what she wanted to do. She had jumped into the training at the academy with both feet and ended up graduating her group with top honours and a reputation as an officer with a great deal of potential.

It didn't hurt her career that she was willing to do even the most menial of tasks that were often bestowed on rookie cops, she did it all with a smile on her face and a glint in her eye for she knew that she was here to learn from the more seasoned cops around her.

She thought she'd imagined it at first but the more she observed the detective the more she became convinced that something wasn't right about him. There had been several times when she and her partner had been the first officers to respond to incidents that Detective Miles would end up investigating.

She hadn't really liked him since the moment she met him, there was just something oily and distrustful about him. A rotund man in his fifties with a large belly and a receding hairline, Detective Nick Miles was a grumpy and unfriendly sort of fellow, not to mention his chauvinistic opinion of any female who had the misfortune to come across him. Not only was he a misogynistic old dinosaur, there was something about him that just didn't seem right.

Maybe it was the natural cop in her, but she couldn't let go of the feeling that there was more to Detective Miles than his outward offensive behaviour and offhand remarks. The more she delved into his cases and his past the more obvious it became that there was something dirty about him.

Her partner had warned her to leave well alone, that Miles was a man with a lot of friends in the force and that to get involved in any kind of attempt to bring him down would cause more harm to her career than to his.

She wouldn't listen though as her interest in Detective Miles and his extra-curricular activities began to border on obsession. When she felt she had enough evidence she took her concerns to her commanding officer, a man who was clearly siding with the seasoned detective, maybe he was on the take too?

People were unwilling to see what a nasty piece of work the detective was, a man unscrupulous enough to take backhanders from criminals and gang members alike, lining his pockets with dirty money and feeling nothing in the way of guilt for doing so.

It didn't sit right with her, the way that Detective Miles was getting away with taking bribes, perverting the course of justice and treating those around him as if they were nothing more than the dirt on his shoes.

So she made a decision, a choice that was likely to haunt her for the rest of her life.


	30. Chapter 30

Word had spread quickly that she was the one who had sold out Detective Miles to IAB; the seasoned detective had made sure of that. It was obvious by the cold way her colleagues were treating her that they didn't agree with what she had done.

Two days after Detective Miles had been arrested she had found her locker broken into and her belongings thrown carelessly over the changing room floor with rips and splotches of red paint all over them. Someone had even taken the time to scrawl 'rat' on the front of her locker and she winced as she ran her hand over the now-dry paint.

Her fellow officers blanked her in the corridors and her partner had requested a transfer, citing that he was unable to work with her anymore. She knew the truth though, no one trusted her now, she was nothing more than a grass that had helped the 'rat squad' to take another officer down.

Much in the same way as there was honour among thieves; there was also an honour between officers, even those that had been proven to be dirty. It was seen as unsavoury and a dishonour to the badge to shop another cop and that was exactly what she had done.

IAB had promised they would do their best to keep her name out of the investigation but their words rang hollow as she realised that she was becoming increasingly isolated from her colleagues as they did everything in their power to avoid her. Her captain had even taken the precaution of relieving her from active duty, knowing full well that her fellow officers would ignore any requests for backup in the field that she might have made.

So she was stuck on desk duty in a room full of people who hated her. It ate at her that she was being portrayed as the villain in all of this, all she had done was stand up for what she thought was right. Surely people should hate Miles and not her?

She knew she wouldn't be able to handle the constantly uncomfortable atmosphere in the department when another uniformed officer walked past her desk and deliberately knocked her cup of coffee over, ruining the report that she had been working on for the last hour as well as staining her pants.

The officer had not even apologised for what he had done as he walked away with a smug grin on his face, the rest of the cops in the room stood by, laughing and sniggering at her. She knew that she would not be able to face the barrage of negativity much longer and did the only thing she could think of by pulling herself quickly from her chair and darting to the ladies toilets.

She found a large envelope on her desk as she returned twenty minutes later, after sobbing uncontrollably in the bathroom, the release of the pent-up tension doing nothing to brighten the low mood she felt.

She almost didn't want to open it, fearing that it would be another nasty surprise from one of her colleagues, a horrible message to warn her to watch her back or something similar. Yet curiosity got the better of her, her natural cop instincts made her want to know what was in the manila envelope, overriding any sense of self-preservation she felt.

She pulled out the first sheet, a hand-written note in a script that she didn't recognise.

_Take the offer._

That was it, just a scrawled message with little in the way of preamble or explanation. Placing the sheet to one side she looked in the envelope once more and found several pieces of paper held together by a metal clip.

Her eyes widened as she read the first page and it soon became obvious what it was, a transfer request from her current department to IAB, an offer had been set out whereby she would gain a promotion to detective upon completion of the required tests and assessments and also a considerable pay rise.

It was clear that she was being bought off but what choice did she have?

It didn't matter where she transferred to, news of her involvement with IAB would follow her everywhere she went like a bad smell, and no matter how she tried to rid herself of it, it would be a stain that she would never be able to remove.

The paperwork had been typed up and completed by Internal Affairs at their end; all that it required was a signature on her part and then placing on her commanding officer's desk. She sat staring at it for a number of minutes before resigning herself to the fact that her career as a regular cop was now over and that the only way she would be able to remain in the job she loved was to become something her fellow officers would hate.

* * *

**Present day – Earlier in the day. Miami:**

"What happened to you, Hil?" he asked again, his tone softer.

"Nothing happened," she replied, trying to stop her voice from breaking.

"You used to be a good cop, why work for the rat squad?"

"You have no right to judge me, Ryan."

"Then why are you trying to judge my colleagues?"

She huffed at him.

"I'm just trying to do my job," she said defensively.

"And so were they," he countered.

"I like you, Ryan, heed my warning and stay as far away from this investigation as possible. I won't be able to protect you if you don't."

"No, I'm sticking by them. We're a team, that's what we do. Maybe you could learn a thing or two about loyalty."

She flinched at his abrasive tone, knowing that he had little idea what she had been through and how much she hated the type of cop she'd become. Picking up her attaché case, she left the room without looking back.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

He watched disinterestedly as he was dealt another hand, not really caring that he had lost well over $500 in the last few hours. He knew that if he kept playing for long enough his winning streak would return and with winning came a sense that everything would be alright with the world.

Watching Horatio freeze in front of a suspect was hard enough to deal with; he really didn't need the added stress of discovering that his old academy friend had turned into an agent for Internal Affairs. He had cared about Hillary deeply, having been close with her all through their time in training. She had shown a number of the men up with her natural instincts as a police officer and he had always admired her balls-to-the-wall attitude.

He felt guilty at losing contact with her, perhaps if he had made more of an effort to find out what was happening in her life he might have been able to prevent her from joining the department that every cop despised. IAB were the lowest of the low, seeking scapegoats and making issues when there usually weren't any, making good officers pay with their careers for the slightest of infractions.

What happened that was so terrible in Hillary's life that she had sunk so low and joined the rat squad?

After the traumatic day he'd had he didn't really want to think about it. He wanted to gamble and drink, and forget that the day had ever happened.

* * *

She didn't miss the yawn that escaped from Horatio's mouth as he sat on the couch fussing over Moses. The cat, for his part, seemed to be lapping up the care and attention his auburn-haired owner was lavishing on him as he purred contentedly.

"I think it's time for bed you two," she said quietly as she entered the room, finding her two favourite males in one place.

"I think Calleigh is right, Moses."

That cat meowed and cocked his head to one side before looking at his injured paw, trying to communicate his need for assistance.

"I'm sure you can make it up the stairs on your own, boy," Horatio chided gently as Moses looked at him intently.

"I'll carry you just this once, don't make a habit of this," Horatio smiled as the cat rubbed its face against his owner's clean-shaven cheek in appreciation.

It amazed her that Horatio didn't realise the calming effect on the feline creature or the calming effect he had on most people. It was such a rare power to possess, the ability to instantly put people at ease was not something that came easily to most people yet seemed natural to the man she loved.

His empathy for those in pain or need was one of the things she admired most about him but it was his current inability or refusal to acknowledge his own pain and need that infuriated her the most about him. Years of experience had told her what an independent and strong man he was, yet there were times that his unwillingness to accept help from the people around him bordered on downright arrogance.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 8 weeks ago:**

The smile on Eric's face faltered as he saw the tense expression on Calleigh's.

"Everything ok?" he asked as he reached out a hand to her, placing it on her upper arm as he stood in the doorway of her home.

"Nothing that a few hours away from Horatio wouldn't fix," she replied honestly.

"That bad?"

She nodded her head curtly as she stood aside and beckoned her colleague to enter.

"I thought he'd be happy now he's away from Alexx's tender mercies," he mused as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Well, he's not. He's a pig-headed, stubborn pain in the ass!"

It wasn't every day that one heard Calleigh Duquesne raise her voice, Eric had always admired her ability to keep cool under pressure and give the impression that nothing much phased her. It was clear to see that living with such a self-sufficient man such as Horatio was driving her to her limits, the main problem being that his brother in law was being forced to rely on the people around him to take care of things that he had always taken for granted.

He could certainly sympathise with Horatio's situation, it had taken months for him to recover from his own head injury, an injury that had almost put paid to his career. Throughout his convalescence he knew that there was one thing he could rely on at all times, Horatio's strength. The man had taken care of him on a daily basis until he was well enough to look after himself and had never asked for anything in return.

Horatio was a giver, taking from others was not in his nature and the concept of accepting help was alien to him. Not only did he have to deal with the physical and emotional ramifications of his ordeal, he had to accept a new way of thinking and change a facet of his personality that was fundamental to him.

He didn't envy Horatio and the challenge he would face in dealing with such a task, knowing that such an uphill battle would break most men. The stubborn Lieutenant had had his share of ups and downs since he'd woken in hospital, there had been times when he had tried to shut down completely, times when he raged against his helplessness and the harrowing times when the thought of facing such a test of his mental and physical fortitude became too much as he sobbed pitifully before berating himself once more for showing weakness in front of the people he cared about.

"You mind if I go and speak with him?"

Calleigh gave him a humourless laugh as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Be my guest, he's not exactly been in high spirits since he woke up."

He knocked loudly on the bedroom door before entering and gave his brother in law a warm smile.

"How you doing, H?"

The older man sighed dramatically as he raised his uninjured hand to his face, rubbing roughly at it.

"Shouldn't you be at the lab?"

"I've got court at 11.00, thought I'd pop by and see how you were settling in."

"You shouldn't have bothered," Horatio replied quietly as he looked away.

He refused to be deterred by Horatio's low mood.

"Do you know how lucky you are right now? Most people would kill to be in a beautiful woman's bed…."

The joke fell flat as Horatio pinned him with his best attempt at a glare.

"Believe me, this is not how I imagined ending up in Calleigh's bed."

"But you are, so why don't you make the most of it. It's not like we've all got a stunningly gorgeous woman tending to our every need, why don't you just sit back and enjoy it?"

"Because she shouldn't have to."

"But she wants to," he countered.

"Eric…"

"No, don't 'Eric' me. Calleigh's a special woman and she loves you, you should be grabbing the opportunity to be with her with both hands, not pushing her away."

"This isn't the way I imagined it, brother," he muttered as he gave Eric a wry smile.

"Since when has life ever happened the way we want it to? It doesn't matter how it happens, when you get a chance you've got to take it. You never know when it'll be too late."

At least he'd succeeded in maintaining eye contact with his stubborn superior as he pushed on.

"She's downstairs right now, hurting because you won't let her in. God knows if you were any other man she'd rip your balls off and wear them as earrings after the way you've treated her.

The thought of being emasculated further made Horatio wince visibly.

"She thinks you're stubborn, proud, egotistical, arrogant…."

Horatio held his good hand up in defeat.

"Okay, Eric. I get the picture."

"Do you? Do you realise what a special thing it is to have someone that loves you? We're not all as lucky as you are."

He watched as Horatio's head dropped, letting out the breath he was holding when the older man cocked his head up at him.

"Since when did you become so wise?"

He matched the sincere smile with one of his own.

"I had a good teacher."


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: As I'm sure you are aware by now, this story is a little A/U and therefore the childhood that was depicted in the series for Horatio did not take place in this universe. I just wanted to mention that to avoid any confusion for readers :-)**

* * *

_Nine year old John Kelly sat in his bedroom playing with the toy police car his father had brought him last week. The die-cast metal vehicle was an exact replica for the patrol car that his father drove along with his partner, Officer Scott._

_He liked his dad's partner, the blond haired man was significantly taller than his father yet he had a kindly face that instantly put the young boy at ease. It also didn't hurt that Shaun was at least a decade younger than his father and a hell of a basketball player._

_He'd shoot hoops with Shaun in the small back yard of the modest home he lived in with his parents. It wasn't a grand building but he knew his father worked hard to provide for his family, wanting to give them everything he could in life._

_It didn't stop him from wishing that his father spent more time with him though, there were weeks when he would barely see him at all. He was at school during the day and his father would have to pull the nightshift on a rotational basis._

_He'd learnt to make the most of the days that he did get to spend with his father; the man would lavish attention on him and join in with his latest flight of fancy. They would go out, just the two of them to the movies, pizza, ice cream, all the things a young boy loved to do with his dad._

_He felt bad for wishing that he could spend more time with him but he knew the job his father did was an important one and to this nine year old boy, he was a hero._

_He already knew what he wanted to be when he grew up, a police officer just like his father. He would serve the city and wear his badge with pride, protecting the innocent and the needy, just like his father did._

_His mother had called out to him over an hour ago to get into bed and turn in for the night, much like other young boys, he lied and told his mother what she wanted to hear, lying wide awake in his bed for at least twenty minutes before creeping out silently and returning to his game of cops and robbers._

_He was almost at the point of apprehending his imaginary suspect when he heard the front doorbell chime. It seemed strange for someone to be calling this late in the evening and the would-be police officer in him was intrigued._

_After hearing the front door open and close he made his way over to his bedroom door and listened through the thin wood._

_"Catherine, you need to sit down for a moment."_

_He recognised the voice instantly; it was that of his father's partner. Even to his young ears he knew the man sounded sad._

_He would never forget the wailing scream his mother let out for the rest of his life as it pierced the cold night air. Unable to move from the spot he was frozen in, he listened as his mother sobbed uncontrollably as she repeated the same word over and over._

_"Why?"_

_"Shhhh, it'll be ok, Catherine. I promise," the male voice soothed._

_He had no idea why he did it, a few moments later he opened his bedroom door and stole a glance out towards the living room where he saw his mother's tear-streaked face as she buried it into the man's shoulder._

_He froze as he made eye contact with Shaun and his first thought was that he would be in trouble for being caught out of his bed after dark. Instead, the young officer gave him a sad smile and motioned for him to come closer._

_He took a few shaky steps forward, still not really understanding what was going on. He watched nervously as the man disengaged himself from the sobbing woman and knelt down before him._

_"Johnny, I have to tell you something and it's gonna upset you. I need you to be a man about it when I tell you, ok?"_

_He nodded his head nervously as he felt his bottom lip quiver._

_The officer took a deep breath and wiped roughly at the tears that were streaming down own his face._

_"Your dad and I…we were called out to a crime…..the suspect was armed…they shot him buddy," the man's voice cracked as he spoke._

_"Will he be ok?" he asked with all the naivety of a nine year old boy._

_The officer shook his head sadly._

_"No, Johnny. They couldn't save your dad…..I'm sorry."_

_He felt himself being pulled into a tight embrace as the tears began to fall from his own eyes; he looked up into the dulled blue eyes of his mother and gave her a watery smile._

_"Don't cry, Mom. I'll take care of us."_

_His face fell when he heard his mother begin wailing again, he broke away from the man and rushed to her side, clinging on to her desperately as he felt her kiss the same auburn hair that she had._

_"I love you, Johnny," she sobbed as she held him tighter._

_"I love you too, Mom."_

_"We'll get through this, Johnny. I promise you we'll get through this, ok?"_

_He didn't know what else to say, he was just a boy, but now he was a fatherless one too._

_"Ok, Mom."_

Calleigh let out a sigh of relief as she heard Horatio's breathing even out, satisfied that he was well on his way to a restful sleep. It had torn at her how reluctant he was to climb back into the bed they had shared for several months after the drama from the night before.

It had taken much cajoling, but he finally relented and allowed himself to be led towards the soft and inviting pillows that seemed to be calling out to him. He had tried, and failed, to keep as much of his body covered up as possible, not wanting the woman he loved to see the physical marks of his brutalisation, so intent was he on trying to block the memories from his mind.

He knew that the doctor he had been forced to see was right, he needed to face what had happened head-on. The truth was that he just didn't have the energy to do it tonight. His issues had waited this long, what was another day?

Calleigh had not taken 'no' for an answer, insisting that the summer heat at night was reason enough to wear as little as possible in bed. They had compromised on the boxer shorts though; he would only go so far to keep her happy.

She had held him in her arms as she rubbed soothing circles over his scarred back and arms, he had flinched and tensed at first but soon found himself becoming increasingly drowsy as he disengaged himself and turned onto his back with a deep sigh.

She didn't want to let him leave her arms, yet she knew that was his preferred sleeping position, one that he had gotten so used to as he lay flat on his back in beds for weeks after his rescue. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his chest, the chest that still bore the ugly reminders of the Malucci's and what they had done to him.

It was a few hours later when she began to hear him murmur softly.

"Don't cry, Mom. I'll take care of us," he muttered sadly as his arms reached out to someone unseen.

She lifted her head from his chest to get a better look at him and was dismayed to find that tears were leaking from his eyes.

He looked so sad….and scared, yet he seemed more concerned about the person he was talking to.

She heard his breath hitch as he nodded his head.

"Ok, Mom," he spoke quietly once more as he bit on his bottom lip, trying to stall the quivering flesh.

She debated whether to wake him, the dream was clearly upsetting him yet it didn't seem to be one of the horrific night terrors that he often experienced. She lowered herself back down and ran soothing circles over his chest until she finally felt him relax under her touch.

When she was satisfied that he had returned to a peaceful sleep she felt her own eyes grow heavier and made a promise to herself that she would try once more to get him to open up and talk about the past that he seemed so intent on hiding from her.

* * *

Busying herself in the kitchen the next morning, she brewed a fresh pot of coffee as she heard the water in the shower upstairs being turned off. Horatio was the kind of person who always needed to greet the day with a mug of strong black coffee and even though it had become somewhat of an uphill battle, Calleigh was determined that he would eat something before he left the house too.

"Good morning, Calleigh," he said quietly as he entered the kitchen, placing his suit jacket over the back of one of the chairs.

She gave him a sweet smile before returning her attention to the coffee pot.

"How did you sleep?" she asked as she kept her gaze on the mugs of steaming hot liquid she was pouring.

Risking a glance at him, she saw him frown and rub a distracted hand over the back of his neck.

"Fine, I think. I didn't disturb you did I?"

Her heart sank, why was his first thought that he had done something wrong, that he was inevitably to blame for something, no matter how small?

"No, you didn't," she replied as she brought the mugs to the table and motioned for him to sit down, "You were mumbling in your sleep, you weren't having a nightmare but you were talking to someone. You kept calling out to your mother," she finished quietly.

He immediately tensed, pushing away from the chair abruptly and moving to the other side of the kitchen.

"You seemed upset…..you were crying. Tell me about it...please," she pleaded.

"Calleigh," he began before she interrupted him.

"You never talk about New York, I feel like you don't trust me."

His eyes widened, shocked that Calleigh would think his reluctance to talk about his past was due to the fact he didn't trust her, of course he did, he just didn't trust himself to be able to block the memories from his mind and the negative emotions that they would entail. No, it was best just to ignore it and hope that it would go away.

"After everything we've been through, why won't you trust me?"

He ran a hand through his still damp hair as he saw the distraught look on her face.

"It's not you that I don't trust….."

"Please, Horatio…..let me in."

His subconscious screamed at him to look away, yet he was helpless to stop it as he felt himself getting caught and then hopelessly lost in those mesmerising green eyes of hers.

"My father was in the NYPD too," he began as he sat back down at the table. "He was a beat cop at the 27th Precinct. He loved his job even though it meant that I didn't get to spend as much time with him as I would've liked."

"I remember one evening that there was a knock on our front door, my father's partner came to tell us that he'd been shot and killed attending a disturbance. I remember my mother wailing when the officer told her what had happened…I remember telling her that it would be ok and that I'd look after us."

"How old were you?"

He closed his eyes at the distressing memory.

"Nine."

"My God, Horatio…"

He interrupted her before she could continue.

"It doesn't matter now, it's ancient history."

"What happened to your mother, is she still alive?"

He shook his head sadly.

"No. She died not long after I was kicked off the force."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

Things were spiralling out of control much faster than he would have liked. The last few weeks seemed to have passed in somewhat of a blur. He'd been caught red-handed with half a kilo of coke, drugs that he had deliberately removed from a crime scene in order to keep his undercover role a secret. Days later his FBI handler, Agent Collins, had sold him out to Internal Affairs. He'd been arrested, stripped of his shield and gun and hauled before a judge. His life and career, everything he had worked so hard for, had been ripped to pieces in a number of days.

The people that he cared about despised him, they thought that he was nothing more than a liar and a dirty cop, a cop who took money and bribes for one of the biggest crime families in the city. Everyone except his mother that was, she had been spared the pain and misery of his fall from grace, the dementia that had gripped her for the past decade prevented her from realising what her son had really become.

He knew it was selfish, yet he needed to some human contact, he'd moved out of his old apartment and kept himself hidden from those he loved, knowing that it would make it easier for him to maintain the image that he had betrayed them all to line his own pockets.

He made his way quietly into his mother's room and found her laying on her bed attempting to cross stitch a pattern of some sort, she placed it down on her lap when she saw him come in.

"Hi, Mom," he said as he kissed her tenderly on the forehead.

"Hello, dear, come to visit me again?"

"Sure have. What are you making?" he asked as he pointed to the needle and thread in her lap.

"It's a picture for Johnny," she said proudly, "do you think he'll like it?"

His heart sank as he realised that his mother had once more confused him with his dead father.

"I'm sure he will," he replied as he gave her hand a light squeeze.

"I worry about him, he's just a boy…..A boy needs his father, John."

He felt the tears welling in his eyes, knowing that even in the grips of her illness she still maintained moments of startling clarity. She was right; he needed his father, now more than ever.

"You need to spend more time with him, he idolises you."

"I will," he choked out as he felt the tears escaping and rolling freely down his cheeks.

After a few moments silence, Catherine Kelly spoke once more.

"Johnny, what's the matter, why are you crying?"

His mother had once more returned to the present as she cupped his face in both hands.

"I'm fine, Mom."

"You're a good boy, Johnny. A good man, just like your father."

He bit furiously on his bottom lip as he willed it to stop shaking. How could he tell his mother what he had become, that he wasn't the man she thought he was?

"I love you, Mom. No matter what happens…..know that I love you."

He gave her one final peck on the forehead before bolting from the room, unable to control the emotions that were trying to overwhelm him. Would he have stayed if he knew then that would be the last time he would see her alive?

It didn't matter now, she had died but at least he had spared her taking the knowledge that her son was no more than a petty crook to the grave with her. She would never know what her son had become and the horrific things that he had done to protect the ones around him.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

"My God, Horatio. I'm so sorry," Calleigh gasped as the information began to sink in.

He shrugged his shoulders as he finished the last of his coffee.

"It's in the past, there's nothing I can do about it now."

Reliving those painfully memories made him think about the relationship that he had with his own son. Their stories were different yet similar in a number of ways, both of them had been denied a father in their young lives, there was nothing either of them could do about their pasts, yet he knew he could take control of the future and make sure that he did all he could for his son, guiding him through the pitfalls of the transition between boy and man. Perhaps if his own father were still alive he wouldn't have made the choices he had all those years ago. Choices that he'd lived to regret.


	32. Chapter 32

He had spent most of the morning busying himself in the lab, working on processing evidence for the Simpson murder case. Eric had tried to convince him to join him running down leads in the community but he had politely declined. The field was the worst place he could be right now, perhaps it was cowardly to keep telling himself that, but it seemed easier than having to face another standoff with an armed suspect.

He doubted his ability to function as a police officer anymore, although he was an experienced crime scene investigator it was being on the frontline that meant the most to him. He felt ashamed that he was hiding away in the lab whilst his team were out there risking their lives, how could he lead the team if he didn't even have the balls or ability to be in the field himself?

As far as he was aware, only Ryan, Eric and Calleigh knew of his ill-timed meltdown at the warehouse yesterday and it seemed as if word had not spread to the others yet. It wouldn't take them long though, they were his team, he'd chosen them because they were the best and most skilled at what they did. It wouldn't take long for them to piece the evidence together and realise that he was no longer fit for active duty.

It had been extremely awkward and uncomfortable when he had run into Ryan in the locker room at the start of the shift, neither man willing to look the other in the eye. He had so desperately wanted to reassure the younger man that yesterday was nothing more than a one-off yet he knew to tell Ryan so would be a lie. He honestly had no idea if the incident yesterday was a mental kick up the backside that he'd needed to seek proper help or if it was evidence of the fact that he really had lost his nerve.

After lunch he found himself sat in the office, the room that he had inhabited for over a decade as head of the crime lab. Never once in all of those years did he ever think that he would one day be questioning his ability to do his job. Calleigh had kindly given him space to work on the reports that included his findings on the Simpson case, looking up each time he heard hustle and bustle down the corridor.

He had seen Ryan and Eric bring Jesus Fernandez back in for questioning as he took a break in the park across from the crime lab building, his brother in law had asked him along for the ride but he declined, making the excuse that he had reports to complete. Jesus' alibi had obviously not checked out, hence the need for the more formal conversation with him.

He ached to be the one leading their suspect into an interview room, grilling him for hours on end until he cracked and provided them either with a confession or a vital lead that would help them break the case. Instead he stood back, across the street, watching his team do the job he had once found so easy to do himself.

He was disturbed from his melancholy mood by a knock at the door and was surprised to find Andy standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" Horatio asked sourly as he placed his pen down on the desk.

"Nice to see you too, kid."

"Sorry, Andy. Didn't expect to see you here that's all. Was there something I can do for you?"

"I was in the area, thought I'd stop by to say hello," the older man replied vaguely.

Suspicions firmly aroused, Horatio knew that his visitor must have an ulterior motive for gracing him with his presence.

He narrowed his eyes at him.

"You always were a poor liar. Tell me why you're really here, have you been speaking to Calleigh again?" he said accusingly as he pinned Andy with a fierce glare.

"Yeah, seeing as we're BFFs and all," the grumpy older man retorted.

"I just came to see my old partner, there's no crime in that is there?"

Horatio looked at him dubiously.

"I don't need constant supervision, Andy. It's bad enough having Calleigh treat me like I'm going to break at any second without you doing it too."

"I'm your friend, John. I'm worried about you."

"Well you don't need you to worry about me; I survived long enough without you caring if I was alive or dead. I think I'll survive just fine now," he snapped.

Andy couldn't hide the hurt or the shock from his face as John's words cut into him deeply.

"Why are you being like this?" the tubby man asked, at a loss as to why his former partner was treating him so coldly.

"Haven't you got some deadbeat father or a cheating husband to track down?"

Andy snorted derisively as he folded his arms over his portly stomach.

"Now I get it. You're pissed that I told Eric about my plans before I told you, aren't you?"

Horatio waved a hand dismissively.

"I couldn't care less what you do, just stop hanging around here. You're not a cop anymore, you don't belong here so just get lost."

Despite his advancing years, Andy moved much quicker than the younger man was expecting as Horatio found himself yanked out of his chair and thrown into the nearest wall.

"What the hell is wrong with you, John? Why are you acting like such a prick? I should beat that smart mouth out of you," he growled as he fisted his hands tighter into Horatio's shirt, shocked to see the look on his face.

"Do it," the redhead said as he stared at Andy.

"Do what?"

"Hit me," he goaded.

"What?!"

"Hit me, Andy. Just do it…..please," Horatio begged as his breath came in gasps, his reddening face a testament to his emotional distress.

Andy broke contact with the other man as if he had been burnt, taking a few steps back as he tried to comprehend what he had just heard.

"Come on, hit me," Horatio repeated, the desperation beginning to seep into his voice. "_Hit_ me!"

He stood and watched, dumbfounded as to his friend's bizarre actions, still not understanding why he was behaving in such a way.

"I don't get it, why do you want me to hit you?"

The younger man's blue eyes met his own and they conveyed the sadness and self-loathing that was eating his former partner alive.

"It's what I deserve…..I hurt people, innocent people…I have to be punished for what I did."

"You think that you need absolution….to be forgiven for what you did?"

Horatio nodded his head sadly.

"I have to atone for my sins," the man's voice sounded flat, dead even.

"Not like this, kid. Never like this," Andy responded as he made his way closer to Horatio, "Why can't you see what a good man you are?"

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1991:**

_They both reached their release together; he laid on top of her supporting most of his weight on his elbows as they tried to regulate their breathing patterns into a more normal rhythm._

_There were no words to describe how he felt about the woman in his arms, in his bed. There had been an instant connection from the moment their eyes met in the squad room, there was something about her that pulled him closer and he found himself helpless against her charms. He was in love, head over heels in love._

_He rolled off of her and onto his back as he felt the cramp build in his arms, he closed his eyes with a satisfied grin on his face, his smile widening as he felt her fingertips dance their way across his bare chest._

_"I've been a naughty girl, Detective Kelly," she purred languidly in his ear, her hot breath causing a stirring in his loins._

_He twisted his neck to look at her._

_"Have you now?"_

_She nodded her head like a naughty child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar._

_"I think you should arrest me, I need to be punished."_

_Within an instant he was back on top of her as she let out a small squeak of surprise._

_"What are you doing, Officer?" she asked innocently, knowing full well what he was up to._

_He pinned her upper arms lightly to the bed._

_"My suspect is resisting arrest, I'm restraining her," he smiled wolfishly at her._

_He could feel her hands trying to escape; he tightened his grip on her arms ever so slightly._

_"Uh uh," he chided, "That's assaulting a police officer. Do you know what the punishment for that is?"_

_She shook her head and looked at him through eyes clouded with passion._

_"Are you concealing a weapon of any kind?" he asked as he let go of her arms and allowed his hands to roam her body._

_"No, Officer, I'm not."_

_He kissed her softly on the stomach as he lifted his gaze to hers._

_"I'm afraid I don't believe you. I'm going to have to carry out a full body search."_

_She didn't have time to reply as his head and hands moved further south. Whatever she was going to say had flown from her mind the minute her lover had touched her aroused and naked flesh._

_After apprehending his suspect, he held her close as they both drifted off to sleep. He was amazed that he had found a woman as perfect as Lori, they had a fiery relationship, neither the type to back down from a confrontation, yet it made the passion in their relationship so much more addictive._

_He had never felt this way about a woman before; she seemed to understand him and connected with him on an emotional as well as a physical level. He was drawn to her inexplicably, she was smart, sassy and independent and he knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her._

_He wanted to stay like this forever, holding the woman he loved and praying that the passion they held for one another would never dim. He imagined her having his children, having the house they'd always wanted, with a white picket fence and sitting his grandchildren on his knee as he told them fanciful stories about his time as a cop._

_He thought he imagined it at first, the slow dripping sensation of water on his face. He wiped the liquid away with his hand and adjusted his position until the cold water hit his face in a deluge._

"Wake up, kid," Andy growled as he shook his slumbering partner's shoulder.

"Stop it, Lori," the younger man mumbled as wiped the drops of water from his face.

Figuring that the slow approach wasn't working, Andy picked up the tall glass of water and tipped it over John's face, watching as the other man came awake with a start.

"What the hell?"

"Finally, I thought you were never gonna wake up," Andy groused as he placed the glass back down on his coffee table.

Sensation returned upon waking as the events of the night before came crashing down on him. The younger man held his head in both hands as he screwed his eyes shut.

"Oh God, my head," he whimpered.

"Yeah, I'm not surprised. You drank your own body weight in booze last night, kid."

Andy handed him two tablets and passed him a fresh glass of water.

"Just let me sleep it off, Andy,"

He smirked at the pitiful tone of John's voice. They'd had a hell of a night, he couldn't remember a time when he'd ever seen his partner that drunk. The man literally could not stand by the time they had called it a night at 3 a.m.

"No can do, John. Have you forgotten what today is?"

The younger man looked at him blankly, his pounding head consuming his every waking thought.

"You've gotta get up and dressed, you're getting married in a couple of hours."


	33. Chapter 33

_"__You're getting married in a couple of hours."_

The words reverberated around his aching head as he tried to pull himself from the couch but found his legs unwilling to cooperate for the most part. He looked down and realised that he was still wearing the same clothes from last night except now his crisp white shirt was covered in stains, reminders of the wild night he'd had, his last night as a single man.

His colleagues from the precinct, along with a number of cops that he'd been through the academy with, came to the stag do that had been organised by his partner, Andy.

He remembered with a sense of dread that perhaps Andy Sipowicz was not the most intelligent choice for best man. He was rude, brash and abrasive, yet underneath that gruff exterior was a good man, a man that he had come to trust with his life. It was a no-brainer, there was never any other man he'd chose to stand by him at the altar as he married the woman he loved.

Apart from the vast amounts of alcohol that had been consumed, it was a relatively quiet affair. John had dreaded having a stripper forced upon him in some seedy downtown bar or being stripped naked and handcuffed to a streetlight. The group of men had travelled from bar to bar, forcing as much alcohol into the soon-to-be-married man until he was near the point of passing out.

His colleagues seemed to find it more than a little amusing as he gradually lost his ability to talk, walk and eventually stand. Truth be told, he didn't really remember much past the row of shots he downed at Micky's Irish Bar on 54th Street. He knew he would regret his foolish actions in the morning but the alcohol had dimmed his senses to the point where he had lost the ability to judge when he'd had enough.

Taking in his surroundings, he realised that he was not in his own home; he figured Andy must have dragged his uncooperative carcass to his own place and dumped him on the sofa to sleep.

He nodded gratefully as Andy handed him a steaming cup of coffee, gulping it down until he realised that his stomach was still intent on showing its displeasure for his foolish actions the night before. He felt his stomach rebel and darted straight for the bathroom, retching the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl.

He heard his partner's dulcet tones behind him.

"You really need to learn how to hold your drink, kid."

He raised his weary head from the toilet and gave Andy his best attempt at a glare.

"Get lost. This is your fault."

The older man just laughed and walked away.

* * *

He stood nervously in the All Saints Catholic Church in Queens as he waited for his beautiful bride to arrive.

"Quit fidgeting, John. You're making me feel tired just looking at you," Andy growled under his breath as he adjusted his partner's tie.

He tried to comply but his body had other ideas, he couldn't stop his foot from tapping or his hands from shaking as he stood at the altar. He still felt like shit, he had never drunk as much alcohol as he had the night before and promised himself that he would never touch a drop of the evil liquid ever again after the horrendous hangover had made its presence known this morning.

"Have you got the rings?" he asked nervously as he kept glancing to the entrance of the church.

"Yes," Andy answered patiently, "For the hundredth time, I've got the rings. Now for Christ sake stop flapping!"

He felt the air leave his body a few minutes later as he caught sight of the gorgeous woman he was about to marry. She stood at the opposite end of the church, arm in arm with her father as she carried a large bouquet of flowers.

He had to remind himself to keep breathing as the music began and Lori inched ever closer to him, smiling as their eyes met. It seemed like a lifetime later but eventually she had made it to his side, her father giving him a curt nod, an unspoken command not to hurt his precious daughter.

"You look beautiful," he whispered as he took her hands in his own.

She smiled at him coyly from beneath the white veil that covered her face.

"You don't scrub up bad yourself," she replied as she eyed him up and down.

Both of them tried to keep the tears from their eyes as they exchanged vows, promising to love and to cherish each other, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer and in sickness and in health. Today was the day that they had finally cemented their relationship and committed to a life together.

A loud cheer rippled through the church as the priest motioned for him to kiss his bride. Pulling the veil gently from her face he kissed her passionately, not caring who saw.

He broke away, needing air in his lungs.

"I love you, Lori."

She smiled at him as she leaned in closer and kissed him again.

"I love you too, Johnny."

* * *

He ignored the way his body protested as he and Lori made their way into their wedding reception, accepting the hugs and kisses of their friends graciously as they mingled and made their way around the room. He still felt sick as a dog and the copious amounts of champagne that were being forced into his hand were not making him feel any better.

It didn't matter how rough he felt or how many glasses of alcohol he had downed, nothing compared to the feeling of complete satisfaction he felt as he sat at the head table, enjoying the traditional Irish dinner that had been prepared for the wedding guests, feeling the pang of sadness that his father could not be here to witness the day he had finally become a man. His mother had attended the service with little understanding of what was happening before being returned to the nursing home she resided in. He smiled goofishly at his wife as they held hands under the table and kissed repeatedly.

The mood was disturbed by Andy's chair creaking along the floor as he lifted his hefty weight from it; John's heart sank as his partner clinked on his champagne glass and asked for silence in the room. He dreaded what might be to come; Andy had a problem with alcohol, never seeming to know when enough was enough. He had no idea how many drinks the man had and prayed that he would not make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

"You all know why we're here today," Andy began as he cleared his throat. "We're here to celebrate the fact that someone has finally taken pity on this scrawny piece of shit and married him."

A murmur of chortling went round the room as John's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Seriously, John's a good man, a real good man with a heart of gold. He might be a lot younger and better looking than I am but I've decided not to hold that against him. He's my partner and I know he'd have my back, I trust him with my life and I'm pleased to call him my friend and God knows I don't have that many of them."

A sombre mood seemed to descend on the room momentarily.

"This is a guy that is loyal, caring and honest. A man who'd go into battle for you and not blink an eye, a guy who'd give you the shirt off of his back if you asked him to. He can be hot-headed, stubborn and Goddamn infuriating at times but I'm sure that's why we all love him."

Andy glanced down at the man he considered to be a son to him.

"He met a wonderful woman in Laura, they hit it off immediately and I knew pretty much straight away that I'd lost my wing-man. I could see it in his face how happy she made him and I was shocked when he asked me to be his best man. I'm not sure anyone would consider me a good man for the job, but I'm more than honoured that he asked."

"I suppose this should be the part where I tell you something really embarrassing about John," Andy paused as someone at the back of the room egged him on. "Maybe I should tell you about the time I caught these two getting hot and heavy in the interview room at the Precinct. Or how about the time I took all his clothes off and put him to bed?"

He looked down at John and smirked as he saw him turn a bright shade of red.

"Look, what I really want to say is that John and Laura make a great couple. I hope you guys have a long and happy marriage. Cheers."

The whole room joined Andy in raising their glasses to the happy couple.

Soon it was John's turn to make a speech, something he'd been dreading all day, being centre of attention never sat easy with him and made him feel more than a little nervous.

"Thanks, Andy," he began as he straightened his suit jacket, "That was a...colourful speech."

His partner smiled and shrugged his shoulders as he sat back down.

"I want to thank everyone for coming here today, to celebrate the day that I married the love of my life."

He smiled sweetly at his blushing bride.

"I love this woman and I promise you all that I will love and cherish her for the rest of my life, I'll protect her and care for her and try to make her as happy as possible. She's the better half of me, she completes me and without her I feel lost. She's made me the happiest man alive and I can never thank her enough for that."

He cleared his throat as he felt it tightening with emotion.

"Thank you to Andy too; you've been an excellent best man and a great partner. I know you've always got my back and you've been there through the good and the bad times. You're a good man and I love you."

A small smirk crossed his face as he heard Andy mutter at him to shut up.

"I want you to all raise a toast to my beautiful wife, Laura."

Their bodies swayed in time with the music as the newly married couple were instructed to have the first dance. He held her tightly as their feet moved to the sounds of the song that they both loved, he began singing along as he gazed down at his wife.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey…."

"You're a terrible singer," Lori replied as her eyes welled with tears.

He gave her a gentle peck on the lips.

"That as may be, I'm pretty good at some other things though."

"Like what?" she asked as she placed a palm flat against his chest.

"Well," he began as he looked down and smiled at her, "let's lose this crowd and I'll show you what I'm good at."

It was an invitation she couldn't turn down. As other couples joined them on the floor they silently made their way to the foyer like a couple of giggling children and grabbed the key to their hotel room. They stared straight ahead in the elevator, deliberately ignoring each other until they had reached the honeymoon suite.

It took her by surprise when her husband swept her off her feet and carried her towards their room.

"John, put me down!" she squealed as she tried to wiggle free.

His grip tightened on her as he fumbled to open the door and eventually succeeded.

"No can do, Mrs Kelly. It's tradition for a man to carry his wife over the threshold don't you know?"

And he did just that, taking an exaggerated step as he made his way into the room before throwing his wife playfully on the bed, tearing his suit jacket from his upper body and carelessly throwing it on the floor as he stalked towards her.

"What else is it tradition to do?" she asked playfully as he leant his body over her and began kissing her neck and face.

"Guess," he replied as he let her hair down and began removing the wedding dress slowly and seductively from her body as her own hands worked restlessly at his shirt and pants, as both of them fell into the fiery pit of passion that underpinned their relationship.


	34. Chapter 34

**Miami. Present day:**

Andy was shocked at his old friend's reaction, how the younger man felt that he deserved to be punished for what had transpired years ago.

The Malucci's had certainly punished him physically for what they perceived as transgressions against their family and it seemed as if John felt they were justified in doing so.

The man's view of the world was so skewed at the moment, not only was he punishing and blaming himself, he was trying to get others to do it too. It was as if John wanted to have some tangible proof that he was to blame for what had happened and that by trying to goad his former partner into punishing him physically he could prove to himself that he deserved what had happened.

He was at a loss as to what to do for him, trying to get him to talk and offering a sympathetic ear had not done much but beating some sense into the stubborn man would be just as counter-productive.

The hardest thing to grasp was the erratic mood changes that John had exhibited since his rescue. At times he was bitter and aggressive and at others timid and quiet, but never once in the time since he'd come to Miami had he ever see the man look happy.

It was as if the man he knew had all but disappeared and in his place was a man living in the shadows of his own dark past, the boyish grin replaced with an ever-present scowl.

He'd lied earlier when John had asked him if he'd been speaking to Calleigh. Of course he had, they might not like each other that much but they were united in their concern for him. He was no expert in psychology but he could see that John was likely suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress condition. His mood swings and aggressive outbursts were indicative of a man on the edge.

It hurt him to think that John could no longer be trusted out in the field, he remembered the time back in New York when John had fired off several shots at a perp who had pulled a gun on him, all of them missing their intended target. He'd changed since that day, his time undercover making him fearless and a dead-on shot with a hand gun.

He'd always seen his old partner as the strong one, the man who carried him from the grotty bars he'd got drunk in time and again. The man who had carried him professionally for years as his alcohol addiction gripped him and threatened to ruin his life. The man who was strong enough to walk away from the people he cared about, to make them hate him in order to protect them.

When he looked at John now he saw a haunted shell of the man he used to know. The face and body had aged but the voice and those sparkling blue eyes were exactly the same as the ones he remembered in his young and eager partner almost twenty years ago. It seemed as if someone else had inhabited the body of the man he once knew, saying the right words but not backing them up with the right actions.

He'd faced some pretty hairy situations in his life but he realised that he had no idea what to do for his old friend, this was something so far out of his league that he was afraid that he would do or say the wrong thing and push John further towards the edge than he already was.

He'd taken John by the arm and pulled him from the office, through the corridors until they had reached the old Honda he'd recently bought after cashing in some of his police pension. He drove him to a place where he hoped the man would find the absolution that he was so desperately searching for.

* * *

He eyed Andy warily before exiting the car, still not sure why the older man had brought him here.

"Go and do whatever it is that you Catholics do," the older man said as he pointed at the church across the street.

He stood with his hands on his hips for a number of moments as if deciding what to do, letting out a heavy sigh he made his way to the ancient building.

The church seemed empty and a part of him hoped that there would be no one there, no one to hear him confess his sins as he made walked towards the curtained booth at the far end of the church. Sitting down wearily, his heart sank as he heard movement from the other side, the partition pulled back revealing the outline of a craggy face.

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," he said quietly.

"How long has it been since your last confession?" the gravelly male voice replied.

"Several years."

"And what has kept you from the House of God for so long, son?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and welcomed the pain it brought, finding that the sharp twinge helped to focus his confused mind.

"I've been busy…and I've been afraid," he replied, his voice dying out towards the end of the sentence.

"Afraid of what?" the priest asked patiently.

"That my sins are so severe that God won't forgive me for what I have done."

"And tell me, son, what have you done that makes you think that He will not forgive your trespasses?"

"I lied to them…..betrayed their trust….made them hate me. I placed the people I love in danger; they could have been killed because of me."

"And were they?"

"No."

"These people that you speak of, have they told you they hate you?"

He laughed bitterly as he fiddled with his ever-present sunglasses in his hands.

"One of them did, I tried to explain to him why I had to do those things..."

"And he understands? He no longer hates you?"

"He says he doesn't."

"Why did you do those things?"

"I had to protect them, keep them safe," he tried to explain.

"And this person you speak of understands that?"

"Yes."

"Then he knows that your heart is pure and that your intentions were good. The consequences of your actions were out of your control, he holds no hatred towards you."

"No, but he should," he replied as he let out a frustrated breath.

"And yet he doesn't, but you cannot find it within to forgive yourself."

"I don't deserve forgiveness for what I've done. Innocent people were hurt and died because of me; their deaths are on my conscience."

"Did you kill them with your own hands?"

"No, but I might as well have done. If I'd done things differently those people might still be alive."

"The people that you speak of, the ones you loved, do they know the truth about your actions?"

"I'm not sure," was his honest reply as he leant his elbows on his knees. "Some of them are dead; they died thinking I was a liar and a traitor."

Memories of his dear mother, dying alone in the nursing home as he hid away in the shadows came back to haunt him. He should have been there with her in her final hours; it was the least he could do for the woman who had raised him almost single-handedly from a young age.

Her illness had spared her the trauma of knowing what he had become but it did little to ease his conscience, the sense of shame he felt at not being present at her funeral. That was a lie though, he had stood in the shadows as he watched Lori and the other people who had known his mother attend the service without him.

She had died, surrounded by strangers instead of her only son. He would never get the chance to apologise for things he'd had to do, never get the chance to ask for her forgiveness.

The same was true of Robin, even though they had only been together a short time before he disappeared into the darkness that his life became he had grown to have real feelings for the woman her recently-departed husband had asked him to protect. His relationship with her was different from the one he shared with Lori; the latter was always able to take care of herself and would face problems head on. Robin was different though, she was a woman who had been through her fair share of heartache and suffering, a woman who needed loving and nurturing, searching for the man who would protect her from all of the bad in this world.

And what had he done?

He'd gotten close to her, made her trust him and then left her to pick up the pieces of his ruined reputation without even looking back. Robin was simply unable to deal with those kinds of demands and he had watched for a number of weeks as his seeming betrayal chipped away at her, the small ripples gradually turning into tidal waves as they threatened to wash her away.

It became too painful to watch the toll it had taken on her and he turned his back and walked away from the life he once knew, trying to convince himself that what he had done was for the best. The truth was that he was a coward and could not stand to see his loved ones in pain, a pain that he knew he had caused. He had inflicted this suffering upon them.

It ate at him that he would never be able to tell Robin the reasons why he had done it; she had gone to her grave a lonely and broken woman, her death was on his conscience. He remembered Andy telling him that she had never really gotten over his disappearance from her life and had succumbed to cancer in her forties. If only he had told her what he'd done, perhaps she would still be alive today.

"And what about the ones that are still alive?"

The priest's voice brought him back to the present with a jolt.

"Maybe it's best just to let the past lie, what's the point of raking up all of that hurt again?"

"It seems as if you need to, son."

He wasn't sure he understood as he twiddled the glasses in his hand again.

"Need to do what?"

"You cannot move forward in the present until you make peace with the past."

"You sound like my shrink," he snorted humourlessly.

"Then he is a wise man and you would do well to listen to him. In time you will find that it isn't the people in your past that must forgive you but yourself. You must stop punishing yourself for things you could not have controlled."

"And what if I can't?"

"You must, son. You must, otherwise you will be stuck in this Hell forever."

He heard the partition slam shut and let out a deep breath, he certainly didn't feel absolved of his sins. There was nothing he could do to shift the hollow feeling that he felt in the pit of his stomach, the priest's words only giving him more to think about than he already had.

Hell was certainly a place that he never wanted to be, yet that is where he found himself, unable to pull himself free from his self-imposed purgatory. Perhaps it was what he deserved, that this would be his penance for the pain and suffering that he had caused others, stuck between two worlds and never knowing which he truly belonged in. Fighting against his present and his past until it would inevitably drive him mad.


	35. Chapter 35

Eric ran a hand over the back of his neck, as if rubbing the aching area would relieve some of the stress of the day that he had endured. His shift had finished nearly an hour ago and yet he found himself unable to leave the lab just yet. It had been a long and mostly unpleasant day, he found himself repeatedly distracted by thoughts of his brother in law and his reluctance to acknowledge that the incident yesterday had even happened.

He'd met Horatio in the Trace lab in the morning, surprised to find that the older man had arrived for work earlier than he had. He'd asked him to accompany him on a visit to Chico's Bar and was dismayed when Horatio had turned him down and advised him to take Ryan or Walter instead.

He'd pleaded with Horatio to see sense, to convince him that all he needed was to get back out in the field to prove to himself that he was still capable of doing his job. His words fell on deaf ears as Horatio looked at him with those haunted blue eyes, the depth of sadness clear for all to see.

"I shouldn't be out there," Horatio had told him quietly as he fiddled with his sunglasses, avoiding making eye contact with Eric.

"I think you're making a mistake, H."

"I appreciate your concern, Brother, but I think the best place for me to be right now is here."

Horatio had pinned him with those eyes again but it was obvious that the fire in him had been extinguished.

"Check out Fernandez's alibi and let me know what you find."

He had opened his mouth to say something but Horatio had already turned his back on him, signalling that the conversation was over.

The ride to Chico's Bar was unpleasant as a prickly atmosphere descended upon Eric and his partner for the day as they kept their eyes straight ahead for the duration of the journey.

"Quit glaring at me, Delko," Ryan snarled as he took a right turn in the Hummer. "I didn't mention what happened yesterday to IAB if that's what you're thinking," he added a moment later.

"You expect me to thank you?" the Cuban retorted as his voice rose.

"Of course I don't!" Ryan took a deep breath to calm himself before continuing, "I don't get why you're treating me like crap, I'm not the one who choked yesterday."

It wasn't the wisest thing he'd ever said and Ryan once more found himself cursing his big mouth.

"We're a team, Wolfe. We look out for each other; we have each other's backs."

"Only when it suits you it seems," he muttered as he concentrated on the task of driving, something that was becoming increasingly difficult as his anger increased.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"How many times have you all left me hanging out to dry, I got fired for God's sake!"

"And who was it that took you back?"

"That's not the point. The point is that Horatio has covered for you in the past, ignored things that he should have dealt with but when it comes to the time when I mess up, I either end up getting suspended or fired."

"That's because you're stupid enough to get yourself into those situations in the first place, Wolfe."

"He treats you differently, what makes you so special?"

Eric picked up on the insolent tone in his colleague's voice.

"Wait a minute, you're jealous?"

"No," he lied.

"So you're gonna sell Horatio out to IAB because he likes me more than you?"

Eric laughed incredulously. "That has to be the most ridiculous thing that I've ever heard."

"I haven't said that I'd tell them yet."

"And you better not, or I swear to God that I'll make you pay," Eric barked.

Ryan wasn't sure if things could get any worse as he found himself caught between a rock and a hard place. In normal circumstances he would have sought advice from Horatio and it was clear that was not an option at the moment.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 7 weeks ago:**

"Hey, Sugar," Alexx greeted her patient warmly as she entered his room, her smile faltering when she saw the scowl on his face.

She ignored his pale imitation of a glare and set her bag down on the bed before perching down next to it.

"I've come to check on your wounds, I need to see if they're healing. Can you sit forward for me?"

He had tried his best but found his weak and feeble body would not obey his commands, he felt even more ashamed when Alexx took him gently by the shoulders and helped him to move into position.

It shocked him at how hard it seemed to maintain his current position, he had never found sitting up in bed this hard before and if it weren't for the steadying presence of Alexx's firm grip he would likely have sunk back down to the bed in an undignified heap.

He kept as still as he could as the doctor ran her hands over his injured body but could not help the grunts or small gasps of pain as she pressed on one tender area after another. He was grateful when her inspection was completed and she helped him to lie back down on the mound of pillows at the head of the bed.

"Have you been taking the meds I gave you?" Alexx asked as she applied a cuff to his right arm and began taking a reading of his blood pressure.

"Yes, Calleigh has been making sure I take them with military precision," he muttered as he closed his eyes briefly.

"And how is the pain?" she asked as she placed a thermometer in his ear and waited for the beep that would signify the results.

"Tolerable."

Satisfied that the reading was within the normal range, she placed the thermometer back in her bag and gave her friend a long, hard look as if assessing his level of recovery by sight alone.

"That's Horatio speak for, 'I'm in agony'"

He said nothing and instead tried glaring at her again.

"I'll up the pain meds, which should help."

He continued to glare at her; she could see the muscles in his face twitch with barely controlled anger.

"It seems as if Calleigh and Kyle have been taking excellent care of you, those wounds are healing nicely and there's no sign of infection."

She failed to hear his mumbled response clearly as his uninjured hand covered his face, experience had taught her that whatever he had uttered it was likely to be some sort of castigation of himself.

"Quit whining, Horatio," she said firmly as she clicked her bag shut and placed it on the floor.

His head shot up to look at her incredulously.

"Excuse me?"

"I said quit whining. Those two out there have been working round the clock looking after you, the least you could do is show them some gratitude."

"You think I'm enjoying this?" he asked as his voice rose.

"No, you hate every minute of it but your making sure that everyone else Goddamn knows about it too!"

Both of them sat there in dumfounded silence, never in all the years that he had known her had Alexx ever raised her voice to him.

She took a couple of deep breaths in order to calm herself.

"Come on, I'm getting you out of here," she said as she pulled the cotton sheet away from his body and held out a hand to him.

Still stinging from the way she had spoken to him, he wasn't sure he wanted to go anywhere with Alexx right now.

"Where are we going?" he asked warily as he accepted her hand and pulled himself into an upright position with her support, he stopped and sat on the edge of the bed as he tried to regain his breath.

"You need a change of scenery, Sugar," she told him as she helped to raise him from the bed and guided him gently to the bedroom door.

Together they shakily made their way across the landing and down the stairs. The short trip had all but exhausted Horatio and he was glad when Alexx had finally settled him out on the balcony in Calleigh's back yard.

He gave Alexx a shy smile once she had helped him to lower himself to the comfy chair that was surrounded by a mound of cushions. Just breathing in the fresh sea air seemed to lift his spirits a little and he found himself relaxing as he watched the gulls on the beach, flying up into the sky and then darting back down to the sand below as they hunted their unsuspecting prey.

Happy that her patient was settled, Alexx made her way back into the kitchen where she found Calleigh and Kyle nursing a cup of coffee each, both of them looking exhausted.

"He ok?" the young boy asked as he nodded his head towards his father.

"He's healing well, looks like things are on track," she smiled back.

"That's not what I meant," Kyle replied, frowning.

She smiled at him sadly, "I know, Hun. I think being stuck indoors for so long is not helping his bedside manner any, I'm hoping that spending a few hours outside might cheer him up a little."

"You think it will work?" Calleigh asked quietly as she took a sip of coffee.

Alexx shrugged her shoulders in response.

"It certainly can't hurt. Just make sure that he stays in the shade and has plenty to drink, we don't want him getting dehydrated again."

The three of them looked at each other as the unspoken memories of Horatio's battle to survive came vividly to mind for each of them.

"It's important that we start getting him up and about each day now, he'll get stronger the more he moves around. The last thing we want is for him to be stuck in that bed any longer than he has to."

"Encourage him to do as much for himself as he can and try not to coddle him, it's only making him feel worse than he already does. If we keep treating him like he's fragile he's going to believe that's how we see him," she continued.

"We did the wrong thing?" Calleigh asked nervously.

It took a moment for Alexx to realise the manner in which the blonde woman had taken her comments and she acted quickly to rectify her mistake.

"No, you've both done great. He's healing well and doing better than I expected he would, physically speaking. Horatio's never been a good patient at the best of times but I think this has taken more out of him than we all realised."

"What do we do then?" Kyle asked as he picked nervously at his fingernails.

"Well, don't take any crap from him for a start."

Alexx smiled as they both looked at her, the shock clear to see.

"He's bitter and angry, trying to push us all away so that we don't see how much he's hurting. Isolating himself is what he wants, you need to stand up to him even if he screams and shouts at you to leave him be. Make him channel that anger into getting back on his feet."

"That's easier said than done, Alexx," Calleigh murmured.

The doctor smiled at her friend. "You'll get the hang of it."

* * *

It had been one of the most pleasant days that Calleigh could remember recently. Sitting Horatio out on the back porch had been a masterstroke as she saw how much more relaxed he looked enjoying the gentle heat in the shade on a warm summer's day. The lines that aged his face seemed much less pronounced as he spent time with his son; he had even let out a small laugh at one point.

It amazed her to see how wonderful Kyle was with his father, he had most certainly followed in his Horatio's footsteps as he treated him with gentleness and respect, never taking it personally when Horatio became disheartened or lashed out at those around him.

Kyle had taken care of his father's most basic needs, providing physical support when required and emotional stability when it was desperately needed by the older man. Calleigh could clearly see that Kyle idolised him and his father's current predicament had done nothing to change his opinion of him.

She listened in as Kyle told his father the plans he had made for the both of them to go fishing and the things they would do together as father and son, seeing the hopeful look on the boy's face gave her hope that Horatio would finally find his way out of this.

The three of them had enjoyed lunch and supper on the porch, chatting and sharing a laugh or two. Calleigh could see that Horatio was beginning to tire and had offered to take him inside several times but he had refused, it was as if he viewed his bed as a prison and wanted to stay a free man for as long as possible. She had granted his wish and allowed him to stay on the porch as they watched the sun set over the crashing waves of the beach below. She had insisted that his legs were covered with a blanket as the temperature began to drop and was surprised when he agreed without argument; it was a testament to how much good a day in the sun had done him.

She heard a knock at the front door as she was busying herself with tidying away the dishes from earlier, she made her way to the door, intrigued as to who would be visiting at this time and was surprised to find Ryan standing there.

"Hey, Cal," he smiled, the poor man looked exhausted.

"Rough day?"

He gave her a wan smile.

"Something like that. Just wanted to see how H was doing?"

"He's good thanks, wanna come and see him?"

She smiled at the excited look her young colleague gave her.

"Really?"

"Sure, he's out on the back porch."

Horatio's whole body stiffened as he heard Ryan's voice making its way nearer to him, suddenly feeling embarrassed to be surrounded by cushions and blankets, it made him feel like a weak old fool in front of his subordinate.

"Hey, H. Nice to see you up and about," Ryan smiled as he sat down on a free chair.

"Mr Wolfe," he replied as he kept his gaze out towards the beach, his ever-present sunglasses covering his eyes.

Ryan felt disheartened by the other man's lacklustre response to his arrival; he had hoped that Horatio would have shown a little more enthusiasm for seeing him. It had been over a week since he'd seen him last and he had still been in the hospital at that point.

Calleigh had kept all of the team away during that time; the only people who had been granted permission to visit were Eric and Horatio's old partner, Andy. As much as he tried to hide it he was hurt that he had been kept at arm's length for so long, he'd hoped that the years he had spent under Horatio's tutelage had brought them closer together yet the older man seemed to be treating him as nothing more than a passing acquaintance as each time he tried to make decent conversation he was rewarded with succinct answers.

"I'll let you get some rest," Ryan said finally as he got up to leave, disappointed in Horatio's response to his impromptu visit.

"The team all miss you, they send their love," he added a few moments later.

He watched as Horatio's body tensed once more as he refused to look at the younger man.

"Thank you, Mr Wolfe," he replied quietly.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

Jesus Fernandez's alibi collapsed as Eric and Ryan questioned Cherry, the head waitress at Chico's Bar. She had denied ever seeing him on the night in question and when asked if she could be mistaken she had replied with some ferocity that she would have remembered if a 'low-life' like Jesus had been there that night.

It seemed as if there were few people who held a high opinion of their suspect, even his girlfriend seemed to treat him with a certain level of disdain and had not stood in their way when they returned to Jesus' home to question him further and eventually arrest him on suspicion of murder.

Jesus had complained all the way back to the Department that he was innocent but his pleas fell on deaf ears as Ryan dragged him from the back of the Hummer in a less than gentle manner.

It was fate that his eyes met those of his superior as he stood across the street with a Styrofoam cup in his hand. Horatio had been wearing his sunglasses but Ryan could tell by the way the man held himself that he wanted to say something. He felt unnerved by Horatio's continued gaze at him and looked away, busying himself with hauling Jesus closer to the building.

He and Eric had questioned Jesus for hours but their suspect steadfastly refused to answer any questions about the double murder at Coral Springs, claiming his was innocent and that he'd been set up. After taking with Frank, he and Eric decided that a night in lock-up might loosen Jesus's lips a little, they would let him stew overnight and question him again in the morning.

Ryan had departed the lab as soon as the shift was over without speaking another word to Eric, neither man willing to reach out an olive branch to the other after their harsh words earlier in the day. They had been civil to each other but Eric was under no illusion that the others in the team had not picked up on the frosty atmosphere between the two of them.

Eric rubbed a tired hand over his face, the team were falling apart, much like their leader, and there seemed to be nothing he could do to stop the inevitable from happening. Something would have to give, and soon.


	36. Chapter 36

Calleigh opened her front door with a sense of unease, walking into the darkened hallway did nothing to quell the rising sense of alarm as she made her way through the house.

She had left the lab earlier that evening after discovering that Horatio had left at some point during the early afternoon. Her first thought was that someone had taken him against his will, but after searching the visitors log she was relieved to find that Andy Sipowicz had signed himself in and out at the same time that Horatio had left the building. A quick chat with Pamela on the front desk confirmed what she had already expected; the two of them had left together.

It concerned her though, that the receptionist had picked up on the sense of unease from the normally unflappable Lieutenant. Pamela had remarked how the older, balding man was almost aggressive in the way that he guided Horatio away from the lab and towards the parking lot.

She disliked Andy Sipowicz at the best of times; never warming to him since the first time they had met. She found him rude, abrasive, stuck in his ways and more than a little aggressive. As much as she didn't enjoy his company she had to admit that the portly man had a way of getting through to Horatio when no one else could. Andy was a tough-talking ex-cop and he certainly pulled no punches when he had something on his mind.

Perhaps a little tough love was what Horatio needed right now but it didn't make it any easier to actually follow through with it. Andy was the kind of person who could give you a piece of his mind and not think anything of it. Every time she had felt her patience running thing with Horatio she had immediately found herself consumed by guilt for hurting him further.

She hadn't heard anything from Horatio all afternoon or evening and became concerned when he did not return to the lab. She decided against calling him and hoped that Andy had been able to talk a little sense into him. It was with great relief when she walked into the kitchen and found the room dimly lit, walking further inside her eyes fell on the table on her back porch and the man sitting patiently waiting for her.

She felt her mouth go dry as she looked at him, as if sensing her arrival he looked up and gave her a shy smile.

"Good evening, Calleigh," he said softly as he lifted Moses from his lap and placed him onto the wooden decking below, the cat giving him a mew of displeasure at being moved.

It was then that her eyes fell upon the table and a small gasp escaped her lips. The table had been laid out with plates and glasses, along with two long-stemmed candles and a vase of white roses, a bottle of white wine sat chilling in a bucket of ice to one side.

"What's all this?" she asked, still in a state of shock. The waft of food from the kitchen seemed to carry in the air, straight to her.

Taking her hands in his own he gave them a light squeeze.

"I know that I've been more than difficult to live with recently. I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate having you in my life; I know it doesn't seem that way at times…."

She cut him off with a gentle peck on the lips.

"You didn't have to do all this," she replied as she gave him a watery smile.

"I've only cooked dinner; it doesn't seem like much in comparison to everything you've done for me."

He began fidgeting and she could sense his discomfort and decided to change the subject slightly.

"What are we having?"

"Seafood risotto and tiramisu for desert," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"You made that for me?"

He shrugged his shoulders again as he raised his head and cocked it to one side.

"It was the least I could do, Sweetheart."

It had been one of the most enjoyable evenings she could remember in recent times as they spent hours on the back porch, listening to the waves crashing on the beach and devouring the food that he had prepared for the both of them. She hadn't realised what a talented cook he was and it hurt to think that there was still so much she didn't know about him and the past that he worked so hard to hide from everyone.

She had tried to encourage him to share a glass of wine with her but he politely declined and sipped his glass of sparkling water instead. She had wanted to question why he was so reticent to indulge in alcohol until she recalled those harrowing days back in New York when he had become reliant on prescription drugs and alcohol to quiet the demons in his mind. He had turned over a new leaf when he moved to Miami; drinking alcohol would only bring those demons back again.

The food had been fantastic and the wine had started to go to her head, she sat watching him clear the plates away with Moses winding his way through Horatio's legs as the cat mewed and begged for any scraps of food left over.

Was it wrong to want this night to last forever?

Horatio had still seemed quiet but he also appeared a great deal more relaxed as they sat in comfortable silence as the candles began to burn down to their last few inches of wax. He poured her another glass of wine, and even though she knew that she would regret it in the morning, she didn't stop him from filling her glass.

"This has been wonderful," she said as she smiled at him.

He blushed a little in response.

"After all you've done for me; I wanted to be able to give you something back."

He glanced at her briefly before returning his attention to the beach below.

"How was your day?" she asked him quietly, hoping that now he was more relaxed that he might open up to her a little more.

He shrugged his shoulders again as he took a sip of water.

"Andy came to see me, _again."_

She couldn't help but smile at the pained way he said it.

"He cares about you, Horatio."

"I know," he replied, his voice barely a whisper.

The cop in her picked up on the change in tone.

"Did something happen between you two?"

The concern was evident in her face as he gave her a small smile.

"Nothing you need to worry about. Just a few cross words between friends, that's all."

"But you and him…..you're ok?"

He looked at her briefly again.

"We're fine."

After stifling a yawn, Calleigh knew it was high time that she headed for bed, the wine and the stress of the last few days draining her reserves of energy. Her eyes shot open as she heard Horatio push away from his chair and walk round to help her up. She took his hand graciously and attempted to stand but found herself swaying instead.

"Sorry," she slurred as she gripped onto his strong frame even tighter.

"My pleasure, ma'am."

Their eyes met as he slowly bent his head down to hers and kissed her softly on the lips. One touch was all it took as she wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss, running her hands up and down his back, towards his neck and into his hair.

He kissed her lips and face hungrily before making his way to her neck as he found himself giving into the passion that he had denied himself for so long. He wanted her, he had always wanted her, and finally he gave in to his primal need to be with her as he pulled at the tight top she was wearing, his hands aching to feel her naked flesh beneath.

_He was kissing her, tearing at her clothes like a man possessed. He loved her, God he loved her. Her and her silky, soft body, the way she writhed beneath his expert touch, the way she called his name as she found her release._

_He loved running his hands up and down her body, kissing her until she begged for him to pleasure her in the most primal and intimate of ways. It always made him smile, to think that he could have this effect on her. She was a strong and independent woman, she knew her own mind, yet when he touched her rational thought went out of the window for both of them._

_He wanted her as much as she wanted him; she could touch him like no other lover he had ever known. There was such a difference between her and the other women that he had been with. Those relationships had been purely physical; the intimate moments he shared with her were a testament to the love they shared and how they tried to show each other just how special they were._

_He laid her gently down on the bed, his eyes roving her naked and quivering body as he smiled to himself, knowing how much she wanted him and how ready she was. He could feel it within himself, knowing that he was ready too. _

_Starting at her stomach he lazily kissed his way towards her face, revelling in the fact that she was lying still and letting him do as he please with her. He kissed her lips and frowned when she did not respond in kind, his eyes travelled further up her face, shooting back in horror as he screamed._

He pulled away violently as he moved quickly to the other side of the decking and turned his back on her. The speed in which he had moved had frightened the small black cat sat under the table as it turned tail and ran inside to the safe surroundings of the kitchen.

The alcohol surging through her bloodstream made her feel bolder than normal as she made her way to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, flinching when he pulled away immediately. She could hear his breath heaving as he tried to regain a modicum of self-control.

"Horatio, talk to me," she pleaded.

He shook his head and screwed his eyes shut and spoke as if he hadn't heard her.

"God, when is it going to stop?" he asked himself angrily.

She pulled him around to face her and saw the look of despair that marred his handsome features, pulling him down into a tight embrace, frightened that if she let go now she would lose him completely.


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: I would just like to take a moment to wish all of my American readers a very happy and safe 4th July, I hope you have fun!**

* * *

She lay quietly next to him, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, allowing it to lull her to a state of relaxation where she felt she could finally get some rest herself. She wasn't sure how much longer they could carry on like this, Horatio had instigated the physical contact between them this time and yet he still couldn't seem to put the demons that haunted him out of his mind.

He was angry and bitter at what he perceived as his repeated failure to please her, giving into the passion and need that he felt for her only to pull away suddenly_. _Deep down she knew that it wasn't because he didn't love her or was not attracted to her; he had made that perfectly clear. His problem was with himself, something deep inside of him held him back from giving in to what they both wanted.

He'd barely said a word as they got ready for bed and stared sightlessly at the ceiling as he laid down, the twitching of the muscles in his jaw clear evidence of his tense state. Talking to him when he was like this was futile, time and experience over the last few months had taught her that. He needed time to think things over and come to his own conclusions about what had happened. Those conclusions usually revolved around the stubborn man apportioning the blame on himself and it would take a great deal of time and effort for him to see otherwise.

She watched as his eyes grew heavier and eventually closed, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw his body begin to finally relax. She felt the tension draining from her own body as she lay on her side watching him breathe.

How could he not know how special he was, how much he meant to her?

Those were the last thoughts on her mind as she closed her eyes and let sleep claim her.

_Looking up into the blinding light before him he smiled as he saw her waiting there for him, at the same table they had shared in his last vision of her._

_"Marisol," he breathed as he took in her angelic form, smiling as she leant over the table and touched his face._

_"It's been too long, my love," she responded as she gave him a wistful smile._

_"I've missed you."_

_"I've missed you too, Horatio."_

_He wanted so much to stay there, praying that their time together would never end. The longing to sit at the table, gazing at her beautiful face, this was what Heaven was meant to feel like._

_It was then that he felt the pain all over, groaning as he felt it wash over him, burning his skin as if he were on fire. The breath rushed from his body as he gasped, grabbing onto his abdomen with both hands, the torturous pain threatening to eat him alive._

_With all the strength he could muster he looked up at his beloved wife and was shocked to see her smiling as she moved further away from him._

_"Where are you going?" he asked in a pained whisper, she grinned gleefully at him, taking pleasure in his discomfort._

_"I am going back to where I belong…..Heaven," she replied as she pointed at the bright light behind her._

_"Wait…I need your help," he begged as the pain drove him to his knees._

_She shook her head as she took another step back._

_"You don't belong with us…you belong down there."_

_He followed her finger as she pointed to the dry and arid ground he was kneeling on, watching as the ground began to smoulder around him._

_He squinted as she moved further into the distance, she stood by a set of tall white gates and it was then he saw the figures of his mother and father, Speed, Robin and Jesse, all smiling at him as they took pleasure in his suffering._

_The gates slammed shut with a loud 'clang' as the group stood behind them, smiling._

_"You will never escape from what you've done," his mother told him as she shook her head sadly._

_His father placed a hand on his wife's shoulder to comfort her._

_"This is the way it has to be, Cathy. The boy needs to learn that a sinner never changes his ways. God has a special place for men like him."_

_The ground around him began sizzling and spitting as the flames tore at his skin, he felt the burning embers bite into him and consume him as he screamed for mercy. _

_The Lord would show him no mercy as he continued to be consumed by the flames, the flames of hate, of hurt and betrayal. It was too much to hope that he would pass out from the pain, the welcoming darkness never came as the fire burned ever brighter around him and he knew then that this was his punishment, his penance. _

_He would burn forever for what he had done._

_It was pointless, yet he couldn't help the scream that rushed from his lips._

"NO!"

Calleigh shot awake when she heard the tortured scream from the man lying next to her. A noise loud enough that it caused Moses to jump from the bottom of the bed and leave the room that he shared with his masters.

He'd had nightmares before; she'd seen enough of them to know. Yet this one was different, never had she heard such a feral and violent noise emanate from his weary body. She watched in horror as he sat bolt upright in the bed, panting and trembling.

He shot from the bed as she began reaching out a hand to him, stumbling in his haste to make it to the bathroom in time as his stomach rebelled. The sound of his retching became pitiful as he brought up the little he'd eaten at dinner.

The sight of him hunched over the toilet was heart-breaking, hugging the porcelain with shaky arms as he knelt before it, his eyes screwed shut.

"Are you ok?" she asked shakily, before berating herself for asking such a stupid question.

He looked at her with bloodshot eyes that were rimmed with dark circles, proof if any was needed that he had barely slept recently.

"You wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head.

"It was a bad one, wasn't it?"

He nodded his head sadly as he covered his face with his hands, wiping the perspiration from his face.

She held out a hand to him and was relieved when several moments later he took it and allowed her to lead him back to the bedroom. He stood still when he saw the bed, caught in two minds as to whether he wanted to return to the one place where he couldn't seem to rid himself of the memories of his past.

He placed his faith in her as she gently pulled him towards the bed and guided him to the pillows. Faith was an alien concept to him at the moment; it had been years since he had put any stock in his Catholic beliefs. Surely God had deserted his wayward child by now, turning his back on a man who had lied and betrayed all of the people he was supposed to care about.

There had been times when he had prayed for forgiveness or some sign that what he was being made to do was for the greater good, yet he had found none. His God had left him to suffer, left him alone in a cruel and harsh world to fend for himself.

What kind of God would subject him to the barbaric abuse he suffered at the hands of the Malucci's?

Even today, he had sought guidance from the Lord yet by night he was shown once more that God would not forgive him for what he had done, that he would forever be condemned to the fiery pits of Hell, never to see his loved ones again.

Calleigh was like an angel to him, a beautiful vision of all the things he could have had if only he'd made different choices. He sometimes questioned whether he was already in Hell, having the woman of his dreams so close to him yet unable to give into his deepest desires for her. Having her close yet not being able to have her in the way he wanted, it was such sweet torture to him and far more painful than anything Gianni or Danny could ever have dreamt up to punish him.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 6 weeks ago:**

Andy pulled at the stiff collar of his button-down shirt as he stood awkwardly on the porch outside, cursing the heat and humidity of Miami. He ceased his fidgeting as he heard the door creak open slowly, smiling as the face of a blonde-haired young man gazed up at him.

"Coast clear, kid?" he asked as he adjusted the paper sack in his hands, looking left and right in an exaggerated manner.

"Don't worry, Mr Sipowicz. Calleigh's at the lab," he smiled back as he opened the door wider and beckoned his visitor in.

"How many more times, Kyle? You call me Andy, you got it?"

"Yes, sir," the young man smiled back as he led his father's old partner into the kitchen.

"Where's your old man?" Andy questioned as he set the bag down on the table and began unloading it.

"On the back porch," Kyle replied as he inclined his head in the direction of the sliding glass doors. "What have you got in there?" he asked a few moments later.

Andy looked up at him and smiled.

"I found some scientific, geeky magazines I thought he might like. Oh, and I got these," he proclaimed proudly as he held a smaller bag up.

"Pretzels?"

"Don't look at me like that, kid. Your old man used to love these puppies back in the old days. I figured that some things never change."

The boy smiled at him sadly.

"I also brought proper coffee and bagels from the diner down the road."

"Thanks, Mr….." Kyle paused as he saw the wizened old man arch an eyebrow at him. "I mean….Andy."

The stocky man smiled at Kyle as he followed him out onto the back porch and found his old partner sitting in a comfy chair, surrounded by cushions.

"Hey, Stringbean. I heard you were up and about, how you feeling?" he asked as he lowered himself down to one of the wooden chairs at the table.

Even though the man was wearing sunglasses he could see the warm smile that crossed John's face.

"I'm doing…well, Andy."

"How are the eyes?" he questioned as he handed his friend a Styrofoam cup, having the forethought to take the lid off first.

The sunglasses did a poor job of hiding the frown that crossed the younger man's face.

"Getting there, Alexx says they should be fine…with time," he finished quietly.

"Hey, mind if I join you?"

The two men looked up as Kyle made his way onto the porch and sat down.

"Of course not, son."

Horatio might have been injured and weak but he wasn't blind, he could see that there was something bothering his son, there was something that the young man felt he needed to say.

"What is it, Kyle?" he asked softly as he stared intently at the boy.

Kyle had no idea how he was going to break the news to his father, the last few days had been a step in the right direction in his recovery, breaking the news that he had to return to his unit would not go down well.

"I had a call from my commanding officer yesterday," he began as he fiddled with the cup in his hands, suddenly feeling awkward that all eyes were on him.

There was no easy way to say it, perhaps it was just best to blurt it out and deal with the consequences afterwards.

"I have to report to my new posting in two weeks."

He felt awful as he watched the tremor that ran through his father's uninjured hand; he leant forward and took the coffee from him gently.

The movement seemed to bring Horatio back to reality as he shook his head slightly. "Where?" he asked after a long pause.

"Camp Blanding. It's in Florida so at least I'll be able to visit at weekends, it's not too far to travel, Dad."

An uncomfortable silence filled the air and Andy suddenly wished he'd been anywhere else at that moment, stuck between a boy who was terrified and a man who was equally as scared but for very different reasons. This wasn't a conversation that he should ever have been privy to.

The atmosphere became more than Kyle could bear as he watched the emotions flicker across his vulnerable father's face. He'd hoped the good spell that they'd been experiencing would last for a few more days at least. It was too much to hope for now; he had single-handedly destroyed the little foundations that his father had managed to rebuild in one single blow. He'd taken away his father's happiness, the situation had been all his doing, he'd caused his father this pain.

"I need another coffee," he stammered as he shot from his chair and made his way back inside the house, pulling the screen door closed behind him.

He sat at the table with his head in his hands, hating himself for what he'd just done.

"John."

"Hey, John?"

Andy's raised voice roused him from the stupor he'd fallen into; he turned to look at him, dazed.

"You ok, John? Talk to me."

He opened his mouth to speak but found himself unable to.

"He'll still be in Florida, you'll still see him."

He stared straight ahead, still unable to speak.

"He's safe, John. You don't need to worry about him; it's not like….."

His next words were cut off as John slammed his injured arm down heavily on the wooden table, causing the cups of coffee to bounce and spill everywhere.

"He's my son!" the younger man yelled as his eyes shot towards his former partner.

It was only after the anger began to dissipate that he realised that slamming his recently pinned and plated arm onto a hard and unyielding surface was not a particularly bright idea as the pain began to shoot through the abused area, throbbing in rhythm with his heart.

"I'm supposed to keep him safe," he whispered.

"He's a big boy now, I'm pretty sure he's just like his old man, he'll be able to look after himself."

"It's my job to protect him. Do you have any idea how pathetic I feel that I can't protect my son?"

"It hurts, doesn't it?"

Andy's comment caught him off-guard as he looked at him in confusion.

"Did you ever stop and wonder how I felt when I thought you'd gone rogue. How many times I lay awake at night wondering if I could have done something different, if I could have protected you somehow."

His injured friend opened his mouth to reply but he wouldn't let him, not until he'd finished saying his piece.

"When they found your body…when I thought you were dead…I realised then that I'd failed you and that your death was on my hands."

"You hated me, Andy; you told me that you hated me."

"I was angry, John. Mainly at myself….If I'd just paid more attention to what was going on with you, if I'd been the partner you deserved then maybe you wouldn't have ended up in the mess that you did."

"Andy, there was nothing you could have done. I made those choices."

"And so has Kyle. The Army is his career; it's what he's chosen to do. Don't make the poor kid feel bad for having to do his job, it's not his fault."

He felt awful as he saw the look of dismay on John's face.

"I would never…"

"But you are. Let him make his own choices and be his own man, he's not some weak little boy that needs protecting anymore. He needs to know that his father is proud of him."

"Of course I am."

"Then show him. Show him, that he can be just as strong as his father is. Don't let what those animals did to you ruin what you have with your kid. You don't get a second chance at being a father…..believe me, I know."


	38. Chapter 38

She made herself busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast in an effort to take her mind off of the difficult conversation she was about to have. There would be no easy way of telling him, it would be best for both of them if she just came out and said it.

He could hardly accuse her of making an off-the-cuff decision, she had thought about nothing else all night after witnessing him having the most horrific nightmare she had ever seen.

She had struggled to go back to sleep, long after he had drifted off into an exhausted slumber, afraid that if she slept too that the demons would return to torment him again. They were both tired, neither of them sleeping well for the last few days, she realised that she had no choice but to make the decision she had been dreading, a choice she'd hoped to avoid altogether.

"Good morning, Calleigh."

She gave him a tired smile as she watched him amble over to the breakfast table and sit down.

"We need to talk," she replied, no preamble, just straight to the point.

He rubbed at his forehead as he leant his elbow on the table, lifting his eyes to look into hers.

It seemed so easy in her head; she had gone over and over what she would say to him. She had prepared her speech right down to the last word, now she found the words failing her. What she was about to say, she knew he would not take it well.

Her continued silence began to concern him as he sat straighter and held her hand, stroking the back of it tenderly with his thumb.

"What is it, Sweetheart?"

Pulling her hand away slowly, she sat down in the nearest chair and placed a hand on his thigh, giving it a light squeeze.

"Horatio….." she paused, still not sure that she could utter the words that would break his heart. "I want you to know that I didn't come to this decision lightly…I've gone over and over it in my mind…."

His mind began racing at the possible scenarios of what she was about to say, had she finally had enough of him and decided it was time for him to move out?

Had she tired so much of him that she no longer wanted him in her life at all?

"Horatio…in light of everything that has happened these last few days, I have to decide what's best for the team…I don't think you're fit enough to be out in the field at the moment."

She watched his face closely for any signs of how he might be taking the news; his blank expression gave away nothing as he continued to meet her eyes, never breaking contact with her.

Emboldened by his lack of negative reaction, she continued.

"There's plenty for you to do in the lab, processing evidence, helping me with the reports…..I think it's best if I remain in charge until you're in a better place. It's still your lab and you can have it back…..as soon as you're ready."

His lack of reaction was beginning to unnerve her, was he even taking in what she was saying?

"Say something, please," she begged.

Picking her hands up, he raised them to his lips and gave them a gentle kiss.

"I understand, Sweetheart. It's ok."

"You do?" she asked uncertainly. She had been expecting a much harsher reaction than the one he was currently displaying.

"Yes. It's why I chose you as my second in command, I knew that you'd be able to make the tough calls when you had to….when I couldn't."

"You're not mad at me?

His eyes widened in surprise at the question.

"Why would I be upset with you?"

Her face still held the same blank expression.

"It's not about you or me; you've made a decision about what is best for the team and the crime lab. I'm proud of you, Calleigh."

"But we're ok; this doesn't change things between us?"

He gave her a shy smile as he cocked his head to one side.

"Of course it doesn't. If we have any hope of sustaining a relationship we're going to have to put our personal feelings to one side when it interferes with our professional duties. Besides, conflicts of interest might not be an issue for much longer."

Now it was her turn to frown at him in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe be the crime lab isn't the place for me anymore, maybe I don't have what it takes to do the job properly now."

"Horatio, no….."

"Perhaps it's time to retire, I'm tired of fighting, Calleigh."

"You don't mean that."

"Don't I? What's the point of doing a job if I can't do it properly?"

"But you can, you just need to work through some things…."

"And how long will that take?"

She knew she didn't have an answer for that.

"What if I can't work through it, what if this is the best it's going to get?"

"You'll get through it, I know you, Horatio."

He appreciated the support, even if her faith in him was misplaced. He knew he had to try to make her understand just how difficult a task it would be.

"Calleigh…losing my memory…..going back to those dark places, having to live those horrible days over again…..I can't make those memories go away, the people I hurt….the people I lied to, I can't take any of that back. I brought the Malucci's here to Miami because I was too proud to ask for help and look what happened…..all of this pain and heartache is my fault."

"No," was her firm response as she wiped away the errant tear from her eye.

He looked at her puzzled.

"No?"

"You're not making any decisions yet. You're going to the session with the psychologist today; you need to come to terms with what happened. You're not in any fit state to be making any decisions about your future, I won't let you."

He gave her a wry smile.

"You won't let me?"

"That's right. I'm still in charge, remember?" she told him proudly.

"How could I forget?"

* * *

"You're late, Wolfe," Eric growled as he watched Ryan hang his bag and jacket in his locker.

"I didn't realise you were playing hall monitor today, _Delko."_

The Cuban took a good look at his colleague; he could see that Ryan's face hadn't seen a razor in the last few days. It was obvious that something was bothering the man.

_"Good," _he thought bitterly, "S_erves him right."_

"You got something to say?" Ryan asked as he invaded the other man's personal space in a deliberate gesture of antagonism.

It didn't take much for Eric's fiery temper to be ignited as the two of them began shoving each other, both of them itching for a fight.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

Both of them looked round as they heard Calleigh's distinctive Southern voice. She didn't give either of them a chance to explain.

"My office, now!" she commanded before storming out.

"Sit," her firm voice gave either man little chance to object as the followed her into Horatio's office.

They glared at each other before reluctantly sitting in the chairs next to each other.

"Which one of you is going to tell me what's going on?"

The two men glared at each other again before looking away.

"Eric?"

"Why don't you ask Wolfe? He didn't have any problem talking to IAB the other day."

"Ryan?"

The shorter of the two men let out a deep sigh as he ran a hand across his stubbled jawline.

"Like I keep trying to tell him, I didn't say anything to Craig. It's not my fault he won't believe me."

"Is this about the incident at the warehouse?" she asked, resigned to the fact that she already knew the answer.

"Look, Craig didn't ask and so I didn't tell her," Ryan responded with another glare at his adversary.

"That's big of you, Wolfe."

"That's enough, Eric."

Calleigh turned her attention back to Ryan who had suddenly found an interesting spot in the carpet to look at.

"Ryan, you're well within your rights to report what happened if you feel that it compromises the team or us as a crime lab facility, but you should know that until circumstances change that Horatio will not be out in the field with any of you."

"See, you happy now, Wolfe?" Eric goaded the other man, jabbing an accusing finger in his direction.

"Eric, this has nothing to do with Ryan. I made the decision, any fallout is on me, ok?

Her former lover glared at her this time, wanting nothing more than to protect his brother in law from the people who were determined to end his career.

"And before you ask, Horatio agreed with me."

She arched an eyebrow at Eric, daring him to respond with another criticism.

"I'll be in charge of the lab until Horatio and I decide the time is right for him to return in a full-time capacity."

"And what about IAB?"

"As far as I'm aware, they don't know what happened at the warehouse. I would appreciate it if we could keep this between the three of us for now; they're already gunning for us as it is. But if you choose to report it, Ryan, I'll understand."

"They won't hear it from me," Ryan responded as he looked pointedly at Eric.

"And I won't tolerate any bickering from either of you. This ends now, understood?"

She looked at the two men in turn, piercing them with her fierce stare until the both finally nodded in agreement.

"The only way we're going to get through this investigation is as a team. We have to stick together otherwise they'll pick us off one by one. Horatio has worked too hard to build this lab up only to see it fall apart in front of him. He needs you to keep it together so he at least has a lab to come back to."

It was a low blow to use her colleague's idolisation of their leader against them but right now it was all she had. Horatio was the pin that held the team and the lab together, when their foundation was damaged it left the whole team wobbling wildly to and fro, fighting with each other would not do any of them any good. Without their lynchpin the whole team would fall apart.

Horatio was in no position to support the team right now; he was the one who needed supporting. He needed their collective strength if he ever hoped to rebuild his own.


	39. Chapter 39

He stood awkwardly in the waiting room, trying to rid himself of the sense of foreboding that had been niggling at him for the last few hours.

Calleigh had kept him busy at the lab, processing evidence and filing reports, all the while keeping him from the prying eyes and enquiring minds of other people at the Crime Lab. It was inevitable that people would start asking questions sooner or later, questions about why he was no longer leading his team from the front. She had told him not to worry and that she would take care of it, yet he knew that the burden of responsibility was ultimately his.

It felt cowardly to spend his time hiding away in some dark corner of the building, hiding whilst his colleagues were out in field doing the job that he used to take for granted. It once again felt like a tremendous fall from grace, the confidence and strength that he had worked so hard to rebuild since those dark days in New York had fallen down around him like a house of cards, his pride and strength, his need for justice to prevail, all of it had collapsed to the ground in a heap and left him with nothing.

His foundations had been rocked to the core and all that was left were the shattered pieces of the lives he once knew. It would not be a simple case of gluing the broken pieces back together, there were so many different shards from his past life and his present that he wasn't sure what went where. Things were muddled and hopelessly mixed up as he lurched from one crisis to another, never entirely sure when his subconscious would chose to creep up on him and lambast him with another of his failures.

He had tried so hard to move on from the life that he'd been forced to leave behind in New York, compartmentalising it in his head to a place so far away that he didn't have to keep thinking about it. He'd learnt through bitter experience to play his cards close to his chest, never letting anyone get too close, knowing that it was only a matter of time before his past would catch up with him and he would be forced to leave yet another life behind to start again somewhere else, somewhere that no one knew him.

Something had changed in Miami, he had felt like he belonged, that he had people around him who cared and treated him like the family that he so desperately longed for. He began to feel wanted, needed by the people who surrounded him, little by little, Miami began to feel like home to him, without him even realising it.

Was that why he refused to heed the warnings of Agent Collins, or was it his mistaken arrogance in thinking that the Malucci's no longer posed a threat to him?

Either way, he had paid for his folly in the most horrific way. They had succeeded in their goal of making him suffer, even though they had planned to kill him, the fact that he was still stuck in his pain and torment meant that he suffered every day for what he had done, and that was a torture all by itself.

He returned the receptionists smile with a shy one of his own, even though it failed to reach his eyes.

"It's Sally, isn't it?" he asked, forcing himself to take his mind off of his own brooding.

The young receptionist blushed bright scarlet, in much the same way she had the last time the red-headed handsome stranger had wandered into her waiting room.

"Uh…yes, Mr Caine, it is."

Her stapler and notepad suddenly became fascinating objects to her as she tried to hide her reaction to him, embarrassed that she was reacting in such a way to him. _Calm down, he's only asked your name!_

He glanced out of the window, twiddling his sunglasses in his hands.

"It's a beautiful day out there," he mused.

He was handsome, in an older-man kind of way. The lines on his face stood out as did the dark circles under his eyes, she was no psychologist herself, yet she could clearly see by the slumped set of his shoulders that he carried a heavy burden with him. She barely knew him, only knowing his name, yet she desperately hoped that her boss would be able to help the troubled man that stood before her.

She glanced down at his calloused hands and found no wedding band, yet she hoped that he had someone special in his life, someone that would support him and take care of him in the way that he so obviously needed. He seemed to be a caring and gentle man, she could tell that much by the polite way that he had spoken to her, even though the weight of guilt he carried with him was heavy, he was still able to see past that and treat others with respect.

Of the many clients who graced her waiting room he was perhaps the kindest that she had met and certainly the most polite. Day after day, people blustered in and out of the waiting room, entirely wrapped up in whatever crisis or drama they were in the middle of. The majority of them were surly and rude, treating her dismissively as just some air-headed bimbo who manned a desk. Many of their clients came from privileged backgrounds, spoilt young brats or women who had married into money yet still found time and reason to complain about their lot in life.

It angered her that some people didn't know just how lucky they were, their problems, in the grand scale of things, weren't really that big of a deal. At least they had their beachfront apartments, gated communities and fast cars to go home to. Some people had far less than that and yet still managed to get by, issues and all, and still be decent human beings.

Looking at the man in front of her she remembered why it was that she had chosen this career, her receptionist duties were a way of paying her way through college so that she could build the life that she had always dreamed of. It was difficult being a mature student, the other people in her classes would look at her strangely, forever separated by age and means. The young students never realised how fortunate they were to have their parents pay their way through college, none of them had likely ever seen a day's work in their teenage lives.

Hers had been a troubled past yet she had found salvation in the one man who wanted to help her move past her chequered history. After bouncing from foster home to foster home she had become disillusioned with life in general and had found herself falling in with all the wrong crowds. It had only been through sheer luck that she had happened upon a foster family that actually cared about her and not just the social security cheques that they banked for taking 'care' of her.

Mr and Mrs Watson somehow sensed that she was a troubled soul and took it upon them to try to help her; they had sent her to their trusted psychologist at their own expense in an effort to help this wayward and erratic girl. The day she had met Dr Pearce had been the day that she had begun to see that perhaps there was hope and a light at the end of the tunnel after all.

Progress had been frustratingly slow at times, yet her foster parents and Dr Pearce had resolutely stuck by her, guiding her back to a sense of stability and normality. The three of them and the support they had provided her convinced her that she could use her own experiences to help others and it was the main reason she had chosen to emulate the man that had helped rebuild her life.

She had felt the need to repay the people who had helped her, but Dr Pearce had enabled her to see things in a different light. He had shown her that sometimes the best way to repay the faith someone had placed in you was to pay it forward instead, perhaps by helping someone you didn't even know.

It seemed like a fanciful notion at first, but perhaps if more people lived by the mantra she did it would help the world become a slightly better place. People often found themselves so consumed by their own pain that they were unable to see past it to the suffering of others. Sometimes, all it took was for someone to reach a hand out in support, the kindness of strangers was something that was still sorely underrated in this cruel and harsh world.

The man stood before her was significantly different from the many men that stood in her waiting room. It was clear to see that his problems ran much deeper than having a wife and/or a mistress or the stress of not knowing which hedge fund to sink his considerable wealth into. He was a smartly dressed man, that much she could tell by the expensive Italian suits that he wore, yet she could tell that whatever money he had come into it had not come to him easily. The worn and scarred hands, the slightly bent fingers of the left one and the worn features of his face told her that everything he possessed he had earned the hard way.

He looked weary and tired and she hoped that Dr Pearce would be able to help this man, a man who looked in need of support and guidance. It wasn't just his friendly face or his polite manners, there was something in his very essence that spoke to her and told her that he was a good man, perhaps a troubled soul but certainly one that was worth making the effort in saving.

The voice of the doctor made her jump, not realising that she had been caught up in mentally assessing the man in front of her. He gave her a quick smile and nod of the head before raising his gaze to the man who had called to him.

"Nice to see you again, Horatio," Jeff smiled as he opened his office door further and beckoned his client in.

"Indeed," he muttered back as he shuffled forward.

After making himself comfortable behind his desk, Jeff tried to coax his reluctant visitor to make himself at home.

"Are you planning to stand for the whole session? If you are, I should warn you that you'll be standing for quite a while. Why don't you pull up a seat?"

Horatio shifted his gaze around the room, taking in his surroundings, as if sensing for any possible threats that might occur. After a few minutes of deliberation he finally took the proffered seat and sat down uneasily in it.

"How have you been since our last session?" Jeff enquired as he opened a file and looked down at it.

"Fine."

Jeff raised his head to look at the other man disbelievingly.

"Really? Why don't you try again?"

"Are you accusing me of lying, Doctor?" Horatio replied coolly.

"Well you're not exactly being forthcoming with the truth, are you?"

"Perhaps you should be more specific then."

The eyes of the two men met, Jeff was experienced enough to know when a frightened and emotionally cornered man was trying to intimidate him. He brushed Horatio's aggressive demeanour aside as he continued to chip away at his unwilling patient.

"Okay then," he smiled placidly, "how have you been sleeping, any nightmares?"

A huge part of Horatio wanted to lie, to bluff his way through the session with the psychologist yet there was a small voice nagging away at him to be honest, to tell the man in front of him the truth, that he was in pain and that he was suffering. He felt the two sides of his psyche battle each other; it was becoming too hard to keep up the front, after months of fighting all he wanted was a little peace and tranquillity. Perhaps it was time to finally be honest with himself.

"Some," he answered finally as he leant his body forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

_Finally, a breakthrough! _Mindful of pushing his client away, Jeff moved carefully forward with his questioning.

"Tell me about them."

"I have been having dreams…..about my past."

"New York?"

Horatio nodded his head all the while keeping his head down as he took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

"Who else was in your dreams?"

He closed his eyes as he felt a small shudder go through his exhausted body.

"The other night…..I dreamt of my parents," he offered vaguely, still not sure that he wanted to carry on answering the psychologist's questions.

"Are they still alive?"

Horatio shook his head sadly.

"We're they alive when you went undercover?"

He shook his head again.

"My father died when I was a boy."

"That's rough. What happened?"

He could feel the panic building within him, he didn't want to go down this road again, yet something made him answer the doctor anyway.

"He was a beat cop in the NYPD; he was killed in the line of duty."

"Were you close with your father?"

Horatio's head shot up as one of Jeff's questions caught him off guard yet again.

"What has that got to do with anything?" he asked warily.

Jeff scribbled something down in the file and answered without making eye contact, knowing that the subject of his client's father appeared to be a sensitive issue.

"I'm just trying to gain an understanding of what your relationship was like with him. It'll help me understand what motivates you a little better."

He thought about the question before answering.

"My father worked long hours….shifts on rotation; he spent as much time with me as he could."

"But you wish he spent more time with you than he did?"

"Doesn't every child?" Horatio answered quietly.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1964:**

Eight year old John Kelly trudged the 150 yards from the school gate back to his home in the quiet residential neighbourhood in Queens. It wasn't a bad place to live; the streets were quiet enough that he and the other kids from the block could bring out their mitts and baseballs and have a game after school most days. They would sneakily steal the metal trash cans from their neighbours and use them as a backstop whilst risking the wrath of their mothers by using their coats and blazers to mark the bases in the dirty and dusty street.

The boys would take it in turns pretending they were Mickey Mantle, seeing who could hit their beat-up old baseball the furthest. It was a fact that John was proud of, that he currently held the record for the biggest hit so far that summer, the only downside was that the ball ended up crashing through the windscreen of the sedan owned by old Mr Parker who had been less than pleased with what he considered vandalism of his property.

After confessing to what he had done to his mother, he'd been made to knock on the curmudgeonly old man's door to apologise and offer to pay for the damage. At first the grumpy old dinosaur had refused and had threatened to report him to the police until his father knocked on his front door later that evening and had a 'friendly' chat as the local neighbourhood cop.

He frowned as he made his way back home, feeling resentment at the fact that the most of the money he earned from helping out at the neighbourhood grocers had gone straight into the pocket of the evil old Mr Parker.

What did he need the money for anyway? He was just a nasty old man who lived on his own and seemed to take delight in scaring the local kids who were just trying to have a little fun in the warm summer evenings after school. They were playing in full view of their parents and weren't causing anyone any trouble, who was old man Parker to spoil their fun?

He kicked the front door closed behind him even though he knew his mother would not be best pleased if she caught him doing it. Tossing his school satchel down he made his way into the kitchen where he knew his loving mother would be, preparing dinner for the both of them.

He could smell the stew cooking from the hallway, hearing the bubbling of the wonderful gravy she made as it simmered in the pot. He loved his mother's cooking, she was simply the best cook he knew, no one ever came close to the delights she would place on the table, nothing was better after a hard day's school than to come home to one of her freshly cooked meals.

He felt a little disappointed that once again it would only be the two of them at the table, mealtimes with both his mother and father were somewhat of a rarity and he treasured the rare few times they were able to sit together as a family. He made his way into the kitchen with a slightly heavy heart and gasped in shock when he heard the familiar voice of his beloved father.

"Hey, Johnny. How was school?"

He probably looked stupid with his mouth hanging open but at that particular moment he couldn't care less. His father was home and judging by the three sets of cutlery at the table, he was staying for dinner.

"Daddy!" he exclaimed as he ran up to his father who caught him midway and held him up, hugging him tightly.

"How's my boy?" his father asked as he gave him a kiss on the cheek before placing him back down on the ground.

Little John Kelly resisted the urge to wipe the kiss away, his friends had told him that it wasn't right for men to kiss each other, they were only allowed to kiss girls.

"I scored top in my class in Math today, Pop," he proclaimed proudly as he ran out into the hallway to collect the paper from his school bag.

He was rewarded for his academic achievement with a ruffle of his hair and a pat on the head.

"That's my boy," his father said as he smiled at his son proudly. "Now give your mother a kiss, then you and I are gonna shoot some hoops before dinner. How does that sound?"

His face lit up like a fireworks display on the 4th of July as he ran over to his mother, stood on his tiptoes and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek before running to his room to collect the basketball his father had bought him last summer.

It had been the best end to a school day that any boy could ask for, John Kelly knew that for certain. He walked hand in hand with his father the few short blocks back to their home after spending the last couple of hours learning how to play basketball. His father was a great teacher, showing him patiently how to dribble and shoot three pointers until he had finally managed to grasp the basics of the game. His father had even lifted him high in the air so that he could try a slam-dunk, it was the best feeling in the world, it felt as if he were flying and that he could do anything as long as he was in his father's safe and strong arms.

He threw the basketball in his room and washed his face and hands quickly before climbing onto his usual chair at the dinner table. He returned his father's wide smile with one of his own as he tucked into his meal with childish abandon, the long day at school and running around the basketball court with his old man had left him ravenous.

"Slow down, Johnny," his mother chided gently.

"Ah, leave him be, Cathy. Johnny's a growing boy; I reckon we got a star player in the family. Our kid's got talent out on that court."

He felt insanely proud of his father's comments, little Johnny Kelly of Queens was gonna make something of his life. If his father said so then it must be true.

"You really think so, Pop?" he asked round a mouthful of food before ending up on the receiving end of one of his mother's fearful glares. His mother was a kind and gentle woman but a stickler for manners.

"You can be anything you wanna be, kid. People are gonna remember your name, my boy. I know it."

His father had never lied to him before and so he had no reason to disbelieve the man now, with his father in his corner he knew he could be whatever he wanted to be and all he really wanted was to make his old man proud of him. They shared a name and he promised himself that he would make sure that people remembered the name John Kelly, no matter what.


	40. Chapter 40

**Present Day. Miami:**

"So it was just you and your mother after that?" Jeff asked as he leaned forward on his desk, trying to get a closer look at the emotions that were flitting across his client's face.

"Yes, it was," Horatio answered quietly.

"Things must have been tough, just the two of you."

"My parents were in the early forties when they had me; they'd tried for years to conceive without any luck. I guess it was just dumb luck that I came along when I did."

"Did they try for more kids?"

Horatio took a deep breath before answering; knowing that he alone had brought shame upon his father's memory.

"They tried…it never happened though."

"I bet they doted on you," Jeff suggested good naturedly.

"My parents were good to me….and this is how I've repaid them."

"I don't understand what you mean by that," Jeff frowned as he picked his pen up and scribbled in the file once more.

"I ruined my father's good name….the reputation he'd built for himself in the NYPD. It was all ruined because of what I did."

Jeff looked down at the file in front of him again, flicking through the pages until he found the piece of paper he was looking for.

"It says here that your file at the NYPD has been updated to show what you did. It's a matter of public record now that you did those things for a reason. You helped bring down a criminal organisation; people will remember you for that, not the things you had to do because of it."

"That's not what people thought back then," Horatio tried to counter, feeling embarrassed by his lame response.

"What does it matter what people thought back then? You can't change anything, what matters is what people think of you now."

"You don't understand," Horatio growled as his hands tightened around the frames of his sunglasses, threatening to bend them out of shape.

Jeff leaned forward again, bending his head lower in a bid to make eye contact with the stubborn redhead.

"Then explain it to me, tell me what I don't understand."

Horatio pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, unaware that to the seasoned psychologist it was one of his biggest tells, a sure sign that they were wading into emotionally uncomfortable territory.

"There are people from my past who died thinking I was nothing more than a greedy criminal…there's nothing I can do to change that now."

"I don't think that's what's bothering you, Horatio."

His client glared at him, biting back on some sort of goading retort.

"These dead people from your past, have you been dreaming about them recently?"

He was rewarded with a small nod of the head.

"Tell me about your dreams," the doctor pressed.

The nightmare he'd experienced last night had been one of the most terrifying and upsetting dreams he had ever experienced. All of the people he had known who were dead and buried had all returned to haunt him, to show him that he would never be reunited with them, that he would spend eternity in Hell, where he belonged.

"Horatio, talk to me," Jeff encouraged his hesitant client.

"The people I knew…..they were all waiting for me. Then they walked away and left me there to suffer."

"Left you where?"

Jeff could see the slight tremble that the other man was trying valiantly to hide from him.

"Hell," Horatio whispered quietly as his voice cracked.

Jeff was grateful that his client had his head bowed as his eyes widened momentarily in shock at the man's answer. It had been clear the first time he had met the Lieutenant and by the worried way Alexx and Calleigh had spoken about him that he was in need of support and perspective, but even as experienced as he was as a therapist he knew that Horatio was in a place so dark and so deep that he would need a great deal of assistance in finding the way out again.

The doctor decided to choose his words carefully, knowing that one wrong move could push Horatio away completely.

"I could sit here and tell you that your dreams don't mean anything but that would be lying."

Horatio's head shot up and he could clearly see the pain and suffering in the haggard man's eyes.

"You think they're right…that I deserve to go to Hell for what I've done?"

"No, of course I don't," Jeff replied patiently. "I think it's your subconscious way of telling you that it can't handle all of this stuff anymore."

"Stuff?"

"It seems to me as if you've been pushing all of your issues away for years, refusing to deal with them for whatever reason. Now that it's all caught up with you it's coming back to haunt you with a vengeance. I think you do feel as if you're in Hell already and that you just want all of this to stop."

Horatio knew he'd made a poor effort in hiding the shock from his face; he couldn't help but be taken aback by how easily the psychologist had read him. He'd spent years alone perfecting his ability to hide his true thoughts and feelings from the people around him, convincing himself that he was distancing himself for their benefit and not his own, when in truth it was nothing more than another of his elaborate lies.

"You're Catholic, right?"

The question once more caught Horatio off-guard.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Jeff ignored the aggressive tone in his client's voice.

"Have you been to the confessional recently?"

How could this man know so much about him was he really that easy to read?

"Yesterday," he replied with a deep sigh.

Jeff leaned back in his leather chair and let out a small laugh.

"Well that answers the question of why you dreamt about Hell last night."

He could see the wary look Horatio was giving him as their eyes met briefly.

"You're a smart man, Horatio. I don't believe that you're naïve enough to take your dreams at face value. It's not your dead loved ones who think you should be in Hell…..it's you."

Much to his dismay, the psychologist had hit the nail right on the head and confirmed what he had known all along.

"You blame yourself for what happened even though it was out of your control. You're the only one who thinks you should be punished, it's just easier if you can convince yourself and others that you're right."

"You know, the Catholic faith has a lot to answer for," Jeff added after a few moments of introspective silence.

"You're not Catholic?" Horatio asked quietly.

Jeff shook his head and smiled.

"Nope. Jewish."

"Not everything that happens is your fault, Horatio; you just like to think it is."

"What do you suggest I do then, _doctor_?"

"I think you need to gain a little perspective about things."

"And how do you suggest I do that?"

"By talking to me, perhaps we can get you to see things a little more rationally. Tell me some more about your mother."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1974:**

John Kelly sat in the coffee shop a few blocks away from the home that he still shared with his mother. He felt slightly silly still living at home but he knew that his mother had no one else to rely on but him. His friends would be out partying or in their college dorms whilst he returned home every evening to spend time with his only surviving parent.

The truth was that he worried about her, both of his parents were nearing middle age when he was born and the toll his father's death had taken on her had caused her to age more rapidly than any widowed woman should have had to. They had his father's police pension to live off but money was still tight, ever since he had turned thirteen he had spent as much of his free time doing odd jobs for their neighbours or working the school holidays in the local neighbourhood businesses in an effort to try to bring more money into the house.

Each time he tried to give his mother some money she had folded the money back into his open palm and told him to spend it on himself. His mother was too proud to take money from her young son and so he would wait until she had turned in for the night before placing a handful of bills in her purse that she always kept in a drawer in the kitchen.

His mother was nearing her sixties when he turned eighteen and it was becoming clear to see that time was starting to ravage her ageing body. Arthritis and poor eyesight began to take hold of her until as she struggled to complete even the most simple of household chores. Each time he had offered to help with the cooking and cleaning she had turned him down and told him that it was her job to take care of him and not the other way round.

He wished his father were still around, he could have done with the man's perspective on things at the moment. He was at a crossroads in his life, he knew the path he wanted to take yet he was reluctant to, knowing the effect it would have on his mother. His father would have told him to follow his own path and be his own man but he had a responsibility to his mother, he had promised her on that fateful night nine years ago that he would take care of her.

He could study for years and become a lawyer or a doctor, some safe kind of job that would bring in vast amounts of money and give him and his mother a comfortable life but he knew he would hate every single minute of it if he did. It would keep his mother happy yet he would be miserable and he knew he would end up resenting her for it.

He had convinced himself over and over that joining the NYPD would be the best thing all round, not only would he be able to honour his father's memory, he would also be able to provide a decent living for him and his mother. It was what he wanted to do, what he had always wanted to do ever since he saw his father in his crisp blue uniform, the badge on his chest glinting brightly in the sun.

He drained the last of his coffee and made the short walk to his house, knocking on the living room door as he spied his mother stitching some cloth.

"Do you have a moment?" he asked as he sat in the armchair next to her.

"Johnny, shouldn't you be at school?" she asked with a hint of concern in her voice.

He frowned at the question, it was Saturday and he'd left school two years ago, he was in college now. He brushed the uncomfortable feeling to one side as he braced himself for what he was about to say.

"I went and signed up for the academy today, Mom."

She placed her needle and thread in her lap as she gave her son a puzzled look.

"What academy, dear?"

"The NYPD."

"Johnny, that's not a good idea. Not after what happened to your father."

He could see her pained expression and felt awful as he saw her bottom lip tremble slightly.

"It's what I want to do, Mom. I want to make Pop proud."

"But you could make him proud by doing anything; you don't need to join the police to prove that."

"I've thought about it, I know it's what I want. I want you to be happy for me, Mom, can you do that?"

Their eyes met as she beckoned him forward, moving from the chair he knelt beside her as she cupped her hands around his face.

"Promise me, Johnny. Promise me that you'll be careful….I couldn't bear it if I lost you too."

He saw the tears welling in her eyes as he felt his own dripping slowly down his face.

"I will, Mom. I promise you."

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"So your mother wasn't keen on you joining the police then?" Jeff asked as he tried to regain Horatio's attention.

It took a few moments for the sound of the other man's voice to register in his brain. "She worried about me constantly. I think between losing my father and worrying about whether I was in danger or not that it caused her dementia to worsen a lot more quickly than it should have."

"Horatio, you know deep down inside that your choice of career had nothing to do with your mother's illness. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it, from what I've heard you did everything you could for her."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1984:**

He unstrapped his gun holster and placed it along with his hat on the side of the small kitchen area in his rundown apartment. He'd long since moved out of his mother's house after deciding that he needed some independence. He still visited her at least twice a week, always checking that she was comfortable and wasn't wanting for anything.

A large chunk of the wages he received as a uniformed officer went straight to his mother, helping to pay bills and provide her with the security that a woman nearing her seventies deserved in life. With the little that was left over he was able to rent himself a small place, it wasn't much and the building's construction and décor left a lot to be desired, but it was a good enough place to call home for now.

It had been an exhausting shift and he couldn't be bothered with cooking himself anything substantial to eat. He pulled out a can of soup from the cupboard and poured the contents into a saucepan before heating it on the crummy cooker that had been provided as part of the fixtures and fittings in his small hovel. He couldn't even be bothered to place the heated food in a bowl as he ate it out of the pan, dipping a slice of bread into the sauce in an effort to fill himself up a little more.

He knew his mother would scold him good-naturedly about his lack of manners and his current eating habits but what she didn't see she wouldn't know, he told himself. Earlier in the week she had nagged him about not eating properly, telling him that he was too skinny and that he needed to be back at home with his mother, eating proper meals.

It had been the only time recently that his mother had spoken to him with some clarity. Concern for her wellbeing ate away at him over the last few months as he began to notice small changes in her, whether it was the way she spoke or the untidy state of the house. She would often make strange remarks that made no sense to him but each time he tried to speak to her about it she would shut him down and change the subject.

The phone rang just as he was mopping up the last bits of juice with another slice of bread, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand; he made his way out into the narrow hall and answered it.

"Officer John Kelly?" a firm female voice enquired.

"That's me, who's calling?" he responded tiredly, hoping it wasn't someone from the Precinct asking him to pull another double shift.

"This is Dr Gatehouse; I'm calling from Lennox Hill Hospital. Is Mrs Catherine Kelly your mother?"

He could feel his heart thumping in his chest as a hundred and one different scenarios ran through his head.

"What happened, is she ok?"

"We need you to come down to the hospital, sir."

He grabbed his gun and hat and ran for the door.

Foregoing the elevator, he ran up several flights of stairs in the hospital building until he found the ward he was looking for. A nurse saw his harried state and took pity on him as she pulled him to one side.

"Officer Kelly?" she asked him as she gave him a reassuring smile.

"That's…me," he responded between heaving breaths. "My mother…..is she ok?"

"The doctor is with her at the moment, she'll be out to talk to you shortly. Why don't you take a seat?"

Sitting down seemed like a good idea as the adrenaline slowly drained from his body, he could feel his knees begin to grow weak as he lowered himself into the hard plastic chair and rested his head back against the wall, closing his eyes for what he hoped would only be a moment or two.

"Mr Kelly?"

The voice was gentle but insistent as he cracked an eye open.

"I'm Dr Gatehouse, we spoke on the phone?"

He rubbed his hands over his face as he sat up straight.

"Is my mother ok?"

The middle-aged doctor smiled at him, her greying hair and worn features a testament to the strain of working constantly with elderly patients.

"Your mother had a fall at home and was found by one of her neighbours who called for an ambulance. She's sustained a broken right hip and cracked two of her ribs on that side."

"My God, will she be ok?"

"Your mother is approaching her seventies, Mr Kelly. The bones don't heal as fast or as well as they do in younger patients, there is also something else to consider."

He didn't like the tone of the doctor's voice and immediately wanted to know more. "What aren't you telling me?" he asked firmly.

"We think your mother had a small stroke which may have caused the fall. Her neighbours also made their concerns known to the paramedics that Mrs Kelly had been acting strangely over the last few months. Have you noticed any changes in her behaviour, sir?"

He closed his eyes as memories of the conversations he'd had with his mother recently and how he had dismissed them without really giving much thought to what might be happening to her.

"She's been getting confused recently, I just thought it was old age, you know?"

The doctor nodded her head in understanding. "We've carried out some cognitive tests and they have confirmed a diagnosis of your mother being in the early stages of dementia. I'm sorry, Mr Kelly."

He covered his eyes with his left hand; this new information was more than he could take right now, he felt overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all.

"Your mother will no longer be able to live independently anymore, Mr Kelly. Is there anyone in your family that would consider having her live with them?"

He shook his head. "I'm an only child…..my father past away a long time ago. We don't have any other close family."

"How about yourself, would you be in a position to take care of her?"

He felt terrible for saying it, but he knew there would be no way he could hold down his job and take care of his elderly and ailing mother. "I work long shifts; I wouldn't be there most of the time."

"Then I'm afraid the only option available to us is to place your mother in a nursing home."

He nodded his head sadly before dragging his body from the chair.

"Can I go and see her?" he asked quietly, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Of course, Mr Kelly. Right this way."

He crept quietly into her room and eased himself down onto the chair by her bed. He pushed the vision of his father lying in similar bed from his mind, trying to forget the fateful night Officer Scott had escorted them to a room just like this to take one final look at his father's body before it was taken away to the morgue.

His father had looked so still and serene, he had been covered to his shoulders with a sheet so that neither he nor his mother could see the fatal wound that had ended his life. He'd hated hospitals ever since that day and seeing his mother lying so quietly, surrounded by wires and machines made him hate them even more.

He stood and leant over the bed, placing a tender kiss on her forehead, surprised to find that the action had woken her.

"Mom, are you ok?" he asked as he gave the hand that was closest to him a gentle squeeze.

"What are you doing here?" she croaked as she saw the man in uniform sitting by her bed.

"You're in hospital, you had a fall but you're going to be ok."

She seemed to dismiss his comments as not relevant as she continued with her questioning. "Why aren't you at home?"

"I got the call to come here; I wasn't going to let you be here on your own."

He knew just how much his mother hated hospitals too, their shared experience had told them what a cold and unforgiving place a hospital could be.

"No dear, you need to be at home. Who'll look after Johnny otherwise?"

It felt like a sucker-punch to the gut, it wasn't until he looked down at the uniform that he was still wearing that he realised that his mother had confused him with the man who shared his name, and his blood.

"It's me, Mom. It's Johnny," he moved his face closer to hers in an effort to make her understand who he was.

"I'll be fine here, dear. Go home and make sure Johnny gets something to eat, he'll be expecting his dinner soon."

He held her hand and watched over her as she fell asleep, tracing small circles over the thinning flesh. It felt as if he were seeing her for the first time, the way that life had chipped away at her vitality until all that was left was a worn and weary old lady. Wrinkles lined her face whilst liver spots and arthritis attacked the hands and joints that for so many years had been put to use providing for her beloved husband and son.

It would be an impossible task to care for her; there would be no possible way that he could meet her increasing needs. He left her room with a heavy heart and went in search of his mother's doctor, resigning himself to the fact that he would have to place his mother's care in the hands of a nursing home.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: I just wanted to take this opportunity to welcome a new writer to the boards, Belle Goode. If you haven't already, please check out her profile and have a read of her work, I'm sure you'll agree that she's a fine addition to the site!  
**

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

"So you feel guilty for placing your elderly mother in a care facility?" Jeff asked as he tried to gain some understanding of what was driving his client's self-loathing.

"I should've taken care of her; it's what my father would've done."

"But you're not your father, in as much the same way that Kyle is not you." Jeff noticed the confused expression on the other man's face. "You did what was best for your mother at the time, just as you did when you risked your life infiltrating that gang."

Horatio shook his head, frustrated that Jeff couldn't see what he meant. "I betrayed them and made them hate me, people I loved died hating me. I can never take that back, no matter how hard I try."

"You believe in God, don't you?"

Horatio nodded his head slightly as he kept his gaze down.

"Then surely you know that they're up there looking down on you, knowing why you did those things, that you did them for the greater good."

"Then why do I feel like this?"

The pain in the blue eyes of his client was all too clear to see.

"Because you've had your life turned upside down in the most horrible of ways. Everything that you've kept hidden for so long has hit you all at once and that poor old brain of yours can't keep up anymore."

"Then what do you suggest?" Horatio asked tiredly as he ran a hand over his face.

"I would suggest trying to let things go…..but I know that is easier said than done. You need to face your past before you can move on from it. Tell me about your mother's death."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1994:**

"Ok, thank you for your call."

He placed the phone back in its cradle sightlessly as he stared into space, seeing but not taking in the sparse surroundings of his new home. He'd left his old apartment in Queens in a hurry just days after being kicked out of the NYPD . He knew that people would want to know why he'd done it and there was no way he could face them without wanting to admit to everything.

He had convinced himself that it was better to run and hide, let them think that he was a dirty cop on the take. It might have been cowardly, but he couldn't stand to see the look of betrayal or disgust on their faces when they looked at him.

He could remember the harsh words he spoke to Andy the day he had been arrested, his partner had tried to reach out to him, to understand why he had agreed to work for a criminal organisation, and he had done the only thing he could think of, he'd lashed out at Andy and pushed him away. He still felt deep shame at the hurtful things he had said to him, it would only have been worse if he had spoken those same words to his own father.

He'd betrayed his father's good name and everything the man had worked for, the name John Kelly would forever be synonymous with greed and betrayal, everything an upstanding police officer wasn't. His mother, had she had the faculties to understand, would have been heartbroken to learn what he'd become. He had visited her a few short weeks ago, intent on confessing his sins and telling her the truth, and yet when it came to it he knew that he couldn't go through with it.

After turning everyone else away, his mother was the only person that he cared about that was left in his life and the only one who didn't hate him. It had been selfish need that had driven him to visit her, well aware that Collins or the Malucci brothers were likely tracking his every step, either one of them unscrupulous enough to use his ailing mother against him. He had risked both of their safety; he needed to see her, to seek comfort from the one person who he knew would never desert him, not like the others.

The ease with which they believed he was a crooked cop and the way that his loved ones had deserted him was a bitter pill to swallow. All it had taken was a few harsh words and Andy had turned his back on him, although he was in no position to judge, he felt let down by the man he considered the closest thing to a father that he still had. He had spoken coldly and cruelly to both Lori and Robin, shocked at the words that had spilled unbidden from his own mouth as he tried to keep them as far away from him as he could.

It had taken more than just a few harsh words for the women in his life to give up on him, for days afterwards they had returned to his apartment, intent on speaking with him yet leaving disappointed when there was no answer. Within a few short weeks the visits had stopped altogether as they moved on with their lives, without him in it.

His caller had spoken the words that he'd never wanted to hear, that his mother had died in her sleep that evening. The nursing home had told him that her passing was peaceful and swift but that was of little consolation to him as he sat numbly in the ratty old armchair in the living room of his tiny apartment.

The kind woman on the end of the line had agreed to his request for the home to make the funeral arrangements, knowing that his mother had a will and a certain amount of cash in savings bonds that he had put by for her since he'd joined the NYPD. It felt cowardly and awful yet again, but he couldn't face the prospect of having to make the arrangements himself as that would mean coming into contact with the people he had gone to such lengths to cut out of his life in the first place.

Two weeks later, the day he had been dreading had finally arrived. It was a bizarre notion, but he was glad that Frankie and Benny had kept him busy running their errands, it had helped to take his mind off of the day of his mother's impending funeral. Her death had come as a shock to him and yet he had no one to reach out to for support, if the Malucci's noticed a change in his demeanour they had not said anything, instead giving him yet more menial tasks to do.

It wasn't worth dressing up for the occasion, it wasn't as if he was likely to be seen by anyone and that was the point. He would attend the service but keep himself to the shadows, away from the accusing glares of the people he used to know. His mother deserved a peaceful and dignified service, something that would fail to materialise if Lori or Andy knew he was there. They would corner him, castigate him for the scum he'd become and demand answers from him, answers that he knew he couldn't give.

Tightening his black leather jacket around him, he hugged his arms to his chest and moved to and fro slightly as he tried to keep warm. It wasn't as if it was a particularly cold day, yet standing in the shade of the huge oak tree at the cemetery made him feel strangely cold inside. It had nothing to do with the temperature, it was his heart that was growing cold as bitterness and anger took hold, their icy hands gripping on to him and freezing him from the inside out.

There was a fair gathering for her burial in the beautiful cemetery and it eased his conscience just a little to know that she would be buried next to her beloved husband and that they would be reunited once more, just as they had been in life. His thoughts darkened as he realised that his own fate would probably be in some nameless grave somewhere, with a ceremony befitting of someone who had betrayed all he knew.

Lori and Robin had attended, as had Andy, who stood stiffly to one side with his hands shoved into his pockets, the small tufts of hair that still remained blew haphazardly in the gentle breeze that swept through the churchyard. He ducked further into the shadows, fearing that one of them might see him and point him out to the others. It was imperative that he stay hidden, out of sight where no one could spot him.

Running a hand over his unshaven cheeks, he waited until every last attendee had left the graveside. He took in a lungful of air and exhaled slowly as he made his way slowly to her final resting place, checking frequently to see if he had been spotted by anyone.

All that was left of his family lay before him; his father's moss-covered headstone had begun to look worn and uncared for without him or his mother being able to tend to it on a regular basis. His father deserved better than a son who had run away from everything, who had run away from the life he once knew.

Tears sprang to his eyes as he read the notes of condolence on the flowers by the graveside, he should have been standing here mourning with them, not hiding away in the shadows like a villain. But at the end of the day, that was what he'd become, he was a villain in the eyes of the people who thought they once knew him.

He knelt by her grave, not caring that the freshly-turned mud stained his black jeans, as he whispered quietly to her.

"I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry I'm not the son that you deserved…Dad will take care of you now," he choked on the words as he lay the flowers he had bought roughly down before stumbling to his feet and making his way back into the shadows.

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"That must have been hard to take, not being able to be at your own mother's funeral," Jeff's words were gentle and non-judgemental as he looked at his client.

"I told myself it was for the best….that she deserved a dignified service, she wouldn't have got that if I was there. I told myself that, time and again, when the truth was that I was a coward."

"What on earth makes you say that?" Jeff replied, unable to keep the exasperation from his voice.

"I hid in the shadows….I pushed them away so that they would hate me and then I turned my back on them so that I wouldn't have to see the way that they'd look at me when they found out what I'd done….what I'd become."

"Horatio, do you have any idea how brave a thing it was to do what you did?"

Horatio looked up at him but said nothing as he watched Jeff flick through the pages of the file in front of him.

"You gave up everything to protect the people that you cared about, you risked your life to keep them safe and did it all on your own. I don't think you realise how much courage it takes to walk away from everything you've ever known and start again. You did all of that and yet never told a soul for nearly twenty years about what you went through. I don't think that is anyone's definition of a coward."

His client looked at him tiredly and he knew then that the man had had enough for one day. They had certainly made progress as the stubborn Lieutenant had finally begun to open up and talk about his past. Raking up old memories that people rather were left forgotten was often an exhausting experience for both therapist and client and Jeff was aware that both of them would need a little while to get their heads around what had been discussed during the session.

After making one final note, he closed the file and bent his head down, trying to gain the other man's attention.

"I think we'll leave it there for today. Come back and see me in two days' time, can you make 4pm again?"

Horatio nodded his head slightly, the therapist let out a sigh of relief as he realised that he would not have to battle the man again over whether he would return for another session.

"Do me a favour, Horatio," Jeff began as his client made his way slowly to the door, "Try not to be so hard on yourself, get a decent meal and some sleep, ok?"

"Doctor's orders?" the other man replied sardonically.

He smiled in return, hoping that he had finally made some progress with the man who was so determined to hold himself accountable for every small thing that had ever gone wrong in his life. "4pm don't be late."

"Never, my friend…..never."

Jeff walked into the waiting room as he watched his client leave; hopefully in a slightly better frame of mind than when he had entered over an hour earlier, he caught his receptionist and former client, Sally looking at him.

"Mr Caine seems like a good man, Dr Pearce," she said as she shuffled the forms on her desk. "Do you think he'll be ok?"

He returned her smile with one of his own as he ran a hand through his short-cropped greying hair. "I sure hope so, Sally."

* * *

Calleigh had busied herself with the ever-growing pile of paperwork that was building up on the desk in Horatio's office. He had done as much of it as he could in between processing evidence in the various labs in the building. She had been privy to some of the gossip from the technicians as they questioned why the head of the Crime Lab was doing something as menial as processing and analysing evidence. It would not be long before rumours spread, she picked up the cell phone on her desk only to be halted by the hated figure of Sargent Craig standing in the doorway.

"CSI Duquesne, a moment of your time if you will."

"Sure, come on in," she muttered as the IAB officer walked in without waiting for an invitation.

"I'm looking for Lieutenant Caine, where might I find him?"

Panic surged through her; Horatio had left an hour earlier to attend an appointment with the psychologist. There was no way she could tell the aggressive Sargent that, should she ever find out, Horatio would spend the rest of his career being wrapped up in bureaucratic red tape, jumping through one hoop after another as Internal Affairs fished for any reason to force him into early retirement.

"He's not here right now; he won't be back until the morning."

"Well isn't that convenient?" Sargent Craig responded sarcastically. "Is he out in the field at the moment or are you trialling a new scheme of half days for your most experienced CSIs?"

"He had some personal business to attend to," she replied vaguely, trying to give as little away as possible.

"On the Department's time?"

"No," Calleigh replied slowly as if talking to a child. "If you look in the records you'll find that I authorised Lieutenant Caine to leave early two days ago. Now, was there anything else you wanted?"

The IAB officer looked as if she were about to object and argue her point with the ballistics expert before changing her mind and turning towards the door. "Please advise Lieutenant Caine that I will be expecting to meet with him here tomorrow," Sargent Craig commanded stiffly as she looked over her shoulder.

After waiting until her unwelcome visitor had stalked back down the corridor, she walked over to the door and shut it quietly as she pulled out her phone, dialling a number and waiting for the other person to pick up.

"Alexx, it's Calleigh. We need to talk, are you free for an hour or so?"

* * *

It had been another tough day for Eric and Ryan, things had not started particularly well when they had been hauled into Horatio's office and raked across the coals by Calleigh as she gave them both a dressing down. Both men had tried to apportion the blame upon the other, their temporary leader refused to believe either of them and instead had commanded them to put their differences aside and consider what was best for the team and their leader, Horatio.

Even a night in the cells had done little to loosen the mouth of Jesus Fernandez who still protested his innocence and refused to name his accomplice. Time was running out for the team of crime scene experts and it was at times like this that both Eric and Ryan would turn to Horatio for support and inspiration. Horatio was the most fearless interrogator they had ever witnessed; he could question a suspect for hours, never once flagging in his pursuit for justice for the victims or their families. He would always grind them down in the end, ego and arrogance tended to get the better of most suspects, Horatio was an expert at letting them think they had the upper hand only to reveal an incriminating piece of evidence or forcing a suspect through sheer will into a confession.

The DA had been clear earlier when he told the men that they either needed to bring charges against Fernandez or let him go. Eric had fully intended on consulting with Horatio before making his decision but was forced to make do with Calleigh instead after being told that his brother in law was not in the building and not contactable. It ate at him why Calleigh was being so evasive about Horatio's whereabouts but fearing another dressing down like the one he received earlier, he decided not to push her about it.

She had told him to release Fernandez, citing that'd be what Horatio would have done in the circumstances, advising him to keep officers on their suspect at a discreet distance in the hopes that he would either incriminate himself or lead them to the whereabouts of his accomplice.

For Horatio's sake, he had tried to make more of an effort to work alongside Ryan during the shift. Apart from Calleigh and Horatio, they were the two most senior CSIs on the team, people in the lab were starting to talk, it was best all round if they put on a united front. Ryan had been dismissive of his overtures at first; the shorter man seemed preoccupied and distant throughout the day as Eric became increasingly frustrated with his colleague's lack of concentration.

He had tried talking to Ryan in the locker room at the end of the shift as he attempted to get the other man to open up with little success, receiving the brush-off several times.

"Look, Delko. Calleigh said we had to work together, not be each other's best friend," Ryan barked as he slammed his locker door closed and shrugged on his jacket.

"Pardon me for showing concern, _Wolfe._"

Ryan shook his head dismissively as he patted his trouser pocket to assure himself that his wallet was still in there. He didn't have time to play games with Eric; he needed to get to the seedy motel for the high stakes poker game that was being held there.


	42. Chapter 42

She let out a breath as she heard his key turn in the door, smoothing down her top; she sat at the kitchen table expectantly.

"Good evening, Calleigh," he said softly as he placed his keys and phone on the worktop.

"I was starting to worry, Horatio." The words had come out of her mouth before she'd even realised it, if it annoyed him he didn't show it outwardly.

"Dr Pearce gave me a lot to think about. I just needed a little time to get my head around some things."

"You think the sessions with him are helping?" she asked hopefully.

He cocked his head to one side and gave her a bashful smile.

"Define helping," he countered wryly.

And she would take his good-natured grousing any day over the withdrawn and quiet shell of a man he'd become over the last few months. She returned her attention to the stove where dinner was currently cooking.

"I made pasta and sauce for dinner, I hope that's alright. I know it won't be a patch on your cooking," she babbled as she picked at the hem of the tea towel she was holding only to have her hands steadied by Horatio's firm grip as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

"It sounds delicious, have a little more faith in yourself."

_Hypocrite! _His mind shouted at him as he willed the voice to be quiet. He was trying his best to follow the therapist's advice and not be so hard on himself, the only trouble being that it was hard to break the habit of what seemed like a lifetime.

"Where's our wounded soldier?" he asked as he deftly changed the subject and the attention away from himself.

As if on cue, the small black cat strolled into the kitchen and wound his way around Horatio's legs, rubbing his body up against that of his favourite owner, leaping into his arms as Horatio bent down to pick him up.

"I could get jealous, you know," Calleigh teased from her position by the stove.

Horatio looked up at her as Moses continued to rub himself against his chest, neck and face.

"Of me or the cat?" he asked playfully.

"Both. That cat is enamoured with you."

He shrugged his shoulders slightly as Moses purred in his ear. "At least someone is."

He regretted the words the moment they had escaped from his mouth as he placed the cat down onto the floor and made his way over to her, sensing that he'd hurt her with his careless remark.

"I'm sorry, Calleigh. That was a terrible thing for me to say."

She wiped her hands on the towel and attempted to regain her composure.

"Dinner will be ready soon, why don't you get cleaned up," she responded stiffly as she steadfastly refused to look at him.

He stood next to her for a few moments, reaching his hands out to touch her before pulling away at the last moment. He left the room with a sigh, cursing his inability to accept the love from Calleigh that was clearly on offer.

He'd felt considerably lighter after his session with the therapist, which had taken him by surprise. He had never put much stock in talking about his feelings; it wasn't the manly thing to do. He'd revisited some memories that he'd rather stay hidden, yet he couldn't deny that things seemed marginally brighter than they had before the start of the session.

The scenic drive that he'd taken afterwards was vastly different to the one he'd made two days ago after his colossal failure at the warehouse. This time the drive had helped to clear his head, he'd left the session feeling a little less helpless than when he'd entered. Still, he wasn't fool enough to believe that everything would suddenly seem better after one session of opening up and coming to terms with his past. His life, just like his moods, were fickle at best at the moment, happiness always seemed to be a fleeting notion, something that passed him by all too quickly and usually before he'd had the time to realise how much he'd really had.

He'd returned to Calleigh's house in good spirits and was determined to show her how much he appreciated her unwavering support of him. He had started well enough, but once again he had fallen into the trap of criticising himself, something the he knew would anger the spirited Calleigh Duquesne. Even when things were going well he couldn't seem to help himself as his subconscious continued to sabotage his efforts to move on with his life at every turn.

After washing and changing, he made his way gingerly into the kitchen, unsure of the welcome he would receive from the woman he had angered less than fifteen minutes previously. He watched as she poured herself a glass of wine and thumped the bottle down on the table, making him jump slightly.

He ate his dinner quietly, fearing that one wrong move or word would cause her to unleash a barrage of pent-up frustration at him. He knew that he'd fully deserve it too, and not just because of his self-loathing, but because Calleigh had been bending over backwards to accommodate him for months now and he had given her little in return except his bitterness and anger. It was a wonder that she hadn't tired of him already.

"That was delicious," he said with a slightly nervous lilt to his voice. He'd stared down some fearsome opponents in his life but nothing unnerved him more than a powerful woman scorned.

She stared at him for a number of moments, before placing her cutlery down on the plate with a clang. "You're lucky I didn't feed yours to the cat."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing his temper to stay in check. "Calleigh, I've said I'm sorry. I'm not sure what else you want me to do."

The process of collecting the plates and placing them in the sink gave Calleigh precious time to decide as to how she would respond to her exasperating lover.

"I'm trying, Horatio. I really am," she said as she leant back against the sink, folding her arms across her chest as she looked at him. "I'm trying to understand what it is that you're going through but it's not exactly easy when you won't talk to me!"

The level of her anger caught him by surprise as he sat at the table, stunned.

"Calleigh…..it's not that easy, " he implored her.

"I'm not sure I can do this anymore, I love you, Horatio….but this is too much."

"You don't want me here anymore?" he asked quietly.

She looked dejected as she regarded him, her bright emerald eyes dulled by the months of stress he had placed upon her.

"I want you, more than you know. I want all of you though, faults and all….I can't keep loving only the parts of you that you want me to see. It's got to be all or nothing or it's not worth it."

He walked towards her, giving the impression that has was more composed than he actually was. Inside he was a nervous wreck as he placed his hands on her elbows, hoping that she would not pull away from him.

"Calleigh, you should know by now that I'm a complicated man. There's a lot in my life that I regret, there are things about me that aren't all that nice. The only reason that I keep that from you is because I don't want you to think less of me…..I couldn't bear it if you hated me."

"I could never hate you, Horatio."

"And I want to believe you, it's just…I haven't had anyone in my life for a long time, I've got used to being alone. It's been easier that way for me to hide in plain sight, only showing people what I want them to see."

"But I want to see it all."

"I know you do, Sweetheart, it's not that simple though. I'm willing to try though... for you."

He gave her a small smile as he lifted her chin up so that she could meet his gaze.

"You are?"

He answered her with a sensual kiss, before cupping her face with his hands and kissing her forehead tenderly. "I am."

It had turned out to be a pleasant evening, despite the rocky start, as Calleigh leaned back in the arms of the man she had fallen desperately in love with. The two of them had retired to the couch in the living room, with Moses making himself comfortable in between them, not wanting to be left out of any fussing that might be on offer.

She revelled in his touch as he kept one arm wrapped firmly round her whilst the other stroked her hair lovingly. With her head against his chest she could hear the steady thumping of his heart and feel his chest move up and down as he breathed. It was a beautiful sound to her and one that she had learnt not to take for granted. Had things turned out differently, Horatio might never have made it back to shore. It was only through good fortune and his team's unwillingness to give up that they had found him alive in the choppy waters off the coast of Miami at all.

He had been broken and battered when they had found him, and now after months of effort it appeared as if he were slowly healing emotionally, finally laying to rest the demons that had haunted him for so long.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 4 weeks ago: **

The day that all three of them had been dreading for the last two weeks had finally arrived, Kyle was due to report to his new posting at Camp Blanding the following morning and not one member of the Duquesne household knew what today might bring.

Horatio had begun to get more mobile and require less support with his everyday needs not long after Alexx had commanded him to leave the bed that had held him hostage for so long. The movement and subtle amounts of strength began to return to Horatio's body as each day he found it marginally easier and less painful than the last to pull himself from the bed and greet the day.

With his new found freedom came a change in his demeanour, there were fewer episodes of anger and frustration as they were replaced with focus and determination to get back on his feet. Only Calleigh and Kyle had seen the toll that Horatio's injuries took on him and the horrific dreams that still haunted him at night. Respecting his wishes, they had done their best to limit the amount of visitors that Horatio received, knowing that he hated to appear weak in front of his team. The only people that the stubborn Lieutenant had agreed to see were Eric and Andy, he had tried is best to avoid visits and the inevitable check-up that would follow each time Alexx came to the house but had ended up failing miserably.

Calleigh knew that Horatio had not taken the news of his son's imminent departure well and was thankful that Andy had been on hand to offer some honest, if brutal, advice to him. The positive progress that Horatio had made over the last week and a half seemed to unravel as he became increasingly quiet and withdrawn with each day that passed. The nightmares had also increased in tandem with his growing fear for his son's safety.

Kyle had tried to reassure his father that his posting was State-side and that he would not be in any danger, but it was of little reassurance to the older man. It was understandable why he would worry though, Danny Malucci had convinced him that Kyle had been killed and it was an image that Horatio was unable to rid from his damaged psyche.

She, along with Andy, had tried to help Horatio gain a little perspective and to cherish the time he had left with Kyle before he would be forced to return to his career in the Army. And Horatio had tried, spending as much time as he could with his boy, making the most of the time they had left. He had been confronted with the brutal realisation that nothing could be taken for granted between father and son and how quickly everything could be taken away.

She kept a close eye on Horatio as he made his way slowly to the coffee pot and poured himself a mug, it was clear to see that he was still hampered by his injuries as the pot shook slightly in his right hand, she resisted the urge to walk over and help him, knowing that if she did he would not thank her for it. Coffee poured, he made his way gingerly over to the table and eased himself down onto a chair, staring absent-mindedly out of the sliding patio doors as he did.

She saw him tense as they both heard Kyle make his way down the stairs, placing his large holdall in the hallway as he did so before entering the kitchen.

"Hey, Dad. How you feeling?" the young man asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down next to his father.

Horatio tried his best to smile reassuringly at his son, not wanting to give the poor boy any more to worry about than he already had. "Good, thank you, son. Did you sleep well?"

Kyle frowned in response. "Not really."

An awkward silence seemed to descend on the room as both men sat staring at their mugs.

"What time do you need to leave?"

"The cab is coming for me at 11.30."

"You'll ring us when you land?"

He placed a hand on his father's undamaged right arm and gave it a quick squeeze. "I promise I'll let you know the minute I land. Please try not to worry about me so much, Dad."

"Easier said than done," the older man replied with a humourless laugh.

"I've been thinking," Kyle said quietly, pausing as his father looked up at him, "I'm going to ask for a transfer to the Military Police, hopefully there will be less time on the frontline that way."

"Kyle, you don't have to sacrifice your career to keep me happy. Don't let my problems hold you back."

The young man smiled at his concerned father. "I want to do it. I figure that it's the next best thing to what you do, I know I'll never be able to join the MDPD with my criminal record so this way I can still be like you. I want to make you proud of me, Dad."

The older man nearly choked on his mouthful of coffee, not expecting to hear such a statement from the boy he had only known for a few short years. "I am proud of you, Kyle. More than you could ever know."

After several tearful embraces from Calleigh and a number of manly hugs and slaps on the back between father and son, Kyle climbed into the back of the cab and waved goodbye to his father, watching out the rear windscreen as the image of the larger-than-life man grew smaller as the car moved further into the distance. With tears pricking at his eyes, he prayed that his father would be ok without him.

She allowed him to stand in the driveway, watching as the cab moved further away into the distance until it was no bigger than a speck of dust on the horizon. Taking him gently by the arm, she pulled him back towards the house and then into a firm embrace, kissing his head and preparing herself for the fallout that was to come.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

"I love you, Calleigh. You do know that, right?"

His low voice caught her by surprise after the amicable silence that had fallen over them. She pulled out of his arms to look at him, studying the lines on his face, the lines that seemed to have increased over the last six months. She answered him with a deep kiss as her hands travelled into his hair, running over the nape of his neck.

He responded in kind as he sat up straighter and pulled her body towards him until she was almost sitting on his lap, his hands running up and down her sides and back.

Lost in the moment, she tugged at his t-shirt and attempted to take it off him only to be stopped by his firm grip on her wrists.

"Calleigh, wait," he whispered as she felt her heart sink, hoping that this time might have been different from all the others. "Not here," he growled as he stood up, lifting her with him.

After placing her feet on the ground, he captured her with another captivating kiss before taking her by the hand and leading her upstairs.

She tried to keep her composure as she followed him up the steps towards their bedroom; they had tried, and failed, to consummate their relationship a number of times before. It was almost too much to hope for that tonight would be the night when they would finally become one.

She stood nervously as he shut the bedroom door and made his way back over to her, noticing the slight tremors that were coursing through his body. His hands reached out to her as she took a step towards him and allowed herself to be undressed by his experienced hands until she was standing in nothing but her underwear.

He looked at her as if she were some kind of holy being, breathing deeply as his eyes roamed her body, touching her reverently as if trying to convince himself that he was not stuck in some sort of blissful dream. He sucked in a breath as she reached for his top and pulled it slowly over his head before placing moist kisses on his chest and neck.

He could hear the negative voices, screaming at him to stop, telling him that he would fail her again. He refused to listen to them this time; he had already put too much stock in the belittling demons that had taken up residence in his mind. Instead, he filled his mind with thoughts of the beautiful woman standing in front of him, a woman that wanted him even though he was worn and scarred.

She kissed him deeply as her hands went to work on his pants, undoing them with one hand whilst the other drew his head nearer to her. He stepped out of the jeans that had pooled around his feet and lifted her up so that she could wrap her legs around his waist, not caring that his previously broken ribs protested at the movement.

He tipped her on the bed and began kissing every inch of her body, using the delighted sounds she was making to drown out the voices that were trying to prevent him from giving into his heart's desire. Their hands travelled each other's bodies until they were both naked, as sweetly and gently, they became one.


	43. Chapter 43

Calleigh had been with other men in her life, but this was perhaps the only time that she had ever felt truly loved by a man. Horatio had taken his time exploring her body; his hands had been hesitant at first, shaking slightly as his fingers made contact with her flesh, her arousal heightening her senses even further as he touched her tenderly.

After all he had been through, she had expected their first time to be desperate or perhaps even rough as Horatio tried to convince both of them that he was still a man despite what his captors had done to him. Their first time had been the exact opposite; he had been sweet and gentle, taking his time to pleasure her before finding his own release. He had stayed lying on top of her as his elbows supported his weight, looking down on her as if she were the most precious thing he'd ever seen.

She raised a hand and stroked his cheek lovingly as she saw the tears in his eyes, wiping them away tenderly as they travelled down his face. He closed them and revelled in her touch, finding it hard to believe that he had overcome the demons that had threatened to take over his life and rip the woman he loved away from him.

He pulled away from her slowly, neither of them wanting to break the physical contact. His weary body had other ideas, today had been draining and his muscles voiced their displeasure at being forced to hold his lanky frame in such an uncomfortable position. He lay on his back as he pulled her towards him, kissing the top of her head tenderly as her fingers ran lightly over his chest.

"Calleigh, I can do better than that," he said quietly, knowing that she deserved to be pleasured much more than he had been capable of this time.

She looked up at him and kissed him soundly. "I've never been made love to like that before; it was better than I could have hoped for…..it was beautiful."

He smiled as she rested her head back down on his chest. "I've been waiting so long to be with you, I just wanted it to be perfect."

"Trust me, it was," she replied as she kissed his chest and closed her eyes, wrapped safely in the arms of the man that she loved.

* * *

Against his better judgement, Eric agreed to meet with Walter in a bar downtown, figuring that it was better than spending another night in alone. After the rocky start to the week it would feel good to let of a little steam.

He sat by the bar nursing his bottle of beer, pulling at the label as the condensation ran down the glass and loosened the glue that held the paper on, looking up as a firm hand slapped his shoulder.

"Hey, Delko," Walter smiled as he sat down next to his colleague, ordering a bottle of beer for himself as he did so.

"Walter," he replied by way of greeting. "I'm surprised you're not out with your IRS girlfriend tonight."

"Tiffany? Nah, we stopped dating weeks ago."

"You did, who is it now?"

"Rochelle, from the bank," the big black man replied proudly as he took a deep swig of his beer.

"Jeez, Walter. I can't keep up with your love life anymore."

"That's 'cos you're getting old, Delko. Move over, there's a new player in town."

Eric gave his colleague a sour look before shaking his head and returning to his bottle of beer. "Don't take this the wrong way, Walter, but why are you here drinking with me?"

"I wanted to talk to you…..in private," the tall black man finally spoke after a long pause. "Away from prying eyes and ears."

Curiosity piqued, Eric pressed for more. "What's this about?"

"Look, I know you're close to H and Calleigh, so don't take this the wrong way," Walter began before pausing as Eric gave him a fearful look. "Things haven't been right since the boss has been back….people are starting to notice."

"Who?"

"Some lab techs have been talking about IAB sniffing around, they know something's going on….they've noticed that H hasn't been out in the field for the last few days. Is there something I need to know, Delko?"

He'd been dreading a conversation like this as he cursed the fact that his colleagues were so perceptive, he'd been hoping that the others at the lab wouldn't have noticed that the team was imploding in on itself. Should he lie or would it be better to tell Walter the truth, could he trust the man to keep his confidence should he decide to confide in him?

The simple truth was that he wasn't really sure what was going on either; Calleigh had been cagey and vague about Horatio's frequent bouts of disappearing from the lab. He was aware that something was going on, Calleigh had stressed to Ryan and him the importance of giving Horatio time to work through his problems.

Would his brother in law ever return to the confident and resilient man he once was, was it time to face the facts that their leader might never return in the capacity that they hoped?

"Things have been tough for H," he said finally as he continued to pick at the label on his bottle. "Coming back to the lab after everything that's happened…..it's taking him a little time to adjust."

"Should I be worried?" Walter pressed. "Should I maybe consider a transfer back to the night shift?"

Eric shrugged his shoulders tiredly. "If that's what you think you need to do. It'd be a shame to see you go."

"I don't want to, Eric, believe me. H is a legend; I was psyched when he approved my transfer to the day shift."

"Then what is it?" Eric asked as he looked his colleague in the eyes.

The big man hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether he should tell Eric of the conversation that he'd had earlier in the day.

* * *

He placed the evidence he was processing down on the table as he heard a knock on the glass panelled door of the lab room he was working in.

"CSI Simmons, a moment of your time please."

He didn't recognise the small, smartly dressed woman that stood in the doorway. No older than mid-thirties, she looked all-business as she stood stiffly with her attaché case in one hand, along with a number of files.

"Can I help you?" he asked, confused as to why such a woman would be asking to speak to him. The frightening thought that his visitor was from the IRS crossed his mind, his dalliance with Tiffany had been short and sweet and he had left her wanting more. Perhaps she had dug up some sort of missed tax return and was using it to seek revenge on him.

"I'm Sargent Craig from Internal Affairs," she responded as she placed her belongings on a table and made herself comfortable on one of the room's chairs.

His first thought was that IAB were after him personally, trying to dig up some long-forgotten infraction that he might have incurred in an effort to tarnish his reputation within the Department.

"What's this about?" he asked warily as he folded his arms over his broad chest and leant back against the desk he had been working from.

"I'm here to talk to you about your colleagues, CSI Duquesne and Lieutenant Caine."

_Thank God they're not after me!_

"Why are you asking me?"

"You're a member of the day shift, are you not?"

Walter nodded his head as he narrowed his eyes at her.

"Lieutenant Caine is the day shift supervisor; you should know that I have been talking to all of his colleagues."

"I still don't understand what this has got to do with me," Walter frowned.

The IAB officer was not deterred by her quarry's evasive responses. "How long have you been a member of the day shift, CSI Simmons?"

"A couple of years, why?"

"In your opinion, do you think Lieutenant Caine is a capable supervisor?"

_What a stupid question to ask!_ he thought to himself. Of course the Lieutenant was a capable supervisor; he was all of that and more. It had taken Walter years to get the transfer to days and he'd been ecstatic when he heard the news that Horatio had finally approved his transfer from the night shift team.

It wasn't that he disliked the night shift, his supervisor was good and he got along well with the rest of the team, it was just that he wanted in on the action that the day shift always seemed to get. He'd always felt a twinge of jealousy at the shift change as Horatio's team packed away their gear, often talking about some kind of high-stakes operation they'd been involved in. Nothing much ever seemed to happen during the night, the day shift was definitely where the action was at.

More than that, Lieutenant Horatio Caine was a man with one hell of a reputation in the Department, apart from criminals and Internal Affairs; no one seemed to have a bad word to say about the guy. He had a reputation as being something of an enigma, larger than life when it came to his dedication to the job, yet mysterious when it came to matters of his personal life. He had a reputation for being fearless, for leading from the front and protecting the members of his team, despite the cost to himself.

It also didn't hurt that the guy was a more than capable crime scene investigator, he'd not really had the opportunity to see that side of the Lieutenant in action that much, knowing that the man preferred to be out in the field, apprehending suspects and questioning them until he'd got the result he wanted.

"Have you noticed any differences in the Lieutenant's behaviour since he returned to duty?"

He knew that this was the type of question which would either make or break IAB's case into Horatio, it was imperative that he gave the right answer. "I haven't really seen that much of him; we've been working on different cases."

It wasn't the whole truth but it wasn't a complete lie either.

"But from what you've seen of him, would you say that mentally he's fit enough for duty?"

He refused to fall for that one, the IAB officer couldn't have been more obvious in her intentions than if she'd hit him with a sledgehammer. "I'm a CSI, not a shrink. You're asking the wrong guy, Sargent."

"Do you not find it strange that CSI Duquesne is still in charge of the day shift now that the Lieutenant has returned to duty?"

Nothing much fazed Walter and he hoped that his carefree demeanour would rile the woman who was intent on digging up dirt on his colleagues at any cost. "I heard that decision came from above, besides the transition of supervisors takes time. You should know that."

"Perhaps authority has gone to CSI Duquesne's head," Sargent Craig suggested as she looked through the notes in her folder. "Would you say her actions whilst Lieutenant Caine was missing were correct?"

"In what way?"

"Do you believe that CSI Duquesne would have used all of the Department's resources that were at her disposal for just anyone?"

"What are you suggesting?" he replied as he narrowed his eyes at her again.

"It is my belief that there was more than just a professional relationship between your two superiors and that CSI Duquesne's actions were not that of a rational leader but that of a woman who was in love with her shift supervisor. Now that she's had a taste of leadership, perhaps she is reluctant to relinquish the reigns of control."

"Look, Sargent, this is just some kind of fishing expedition for you. You've got nothing on either of them."

The IAB officer gave him a smug grin as she closed the folder and placed it back in her attaché case. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, CSI Simmons. There will be changes afoot, it would be in your best interest to decide which side you want to be on when that time comes."

Sargent Hillary Craig left the room without looking back; once more another officer had looked at her as if she were the enemy. Couldn't they see that she was just another pawn in the game, a tool to be used by Internal Affairs to wield as they saw fit?

This was never the career that she would have chosen for herself, there were too many times when she wished that she could be just like the members of the Crime Lab's day shift team, getting in on the action and making a real difference out on the streets, where it mattered. She had a job to do, it didn't matter if she enjoyed it or not, keeping her head down and sticking to tried and tested methods had worked so far, why should now be any different?

She pulled the cell phone from her pants pockets as she felt it vibrate rhythmically on her leg, frowning when she read the message. It was blunt and to the point.

_We need to meet._

* * *

"Have they come looking for you yet?" Walter asked as he swallowed the last of his beer.

Eric shook his head, "Not yet."

"Are things going to be ok, Delko?" the burly black man asked quietly.

What could he say in response to that?

Everything was a mess right now, the team was fractured and split, something that none of them had ever really experienced before. Threats had always come from the outside and they had always stood firm, weathering the storm together as a group. This time the threats were coming from within, with a leader who could barely function whilst the team he had so tirelessly built fought with each other, leaving the most junior members debating whether or not it was a good idea to jump ship before the whole sorry thing sank.

Should he tell Walter that he had a right to be worried? That it might be for the best if he transferred out before the team were torn completely apart?

He would do no such thing himself; he had Horatio's back no matter the cost. Whatever was coming the Lieutenant's way, he would stand shoulder to shoulder with him, fighting until the end, for that was what brothers do.


	44. Chapter 44

It was only when she woke at a little after 06.00 that she realised that she'd had the first night of uninterrupted sleep in as many months as she could remember. She was still wrapped firmly in Horatio's arms as her head rested on his chest, the steady rise and fall of which signalling that he was still asleep.

Not once had she heard so much as a mumble from him, she lifted her head and gently ducked out of his embrace, pausing when she saw him move before settling back to sleep. Leaning on her side, balancing on one elbow, she watched the complicated man, noticing that the lines that marred his handsome face seemed to lessen when he appeared relaxed. Gone was the permanent frown and with it was replaced a small smile as he remained blissfully unaware of her, hopefully in the grips of a pleasant dream.

She wanted to pinch herself, to convince herself that last night had been real. After months of near misses and small moments that promised so much, they had finally consummated the relationship that meant so much to her. It was better than she could ever have imagined, it was slow and gentle, she would have willingly repeated the process all night long but knew that for Horatio it had been a huge step forwards.

He had been repeatedly and brutally abused by his captors; they had stripped him of his dignity and pride and left him feeling emasculated. For such a strong man it had been a bitter pill for him to swallow and had left him doubting his own worth as a man. She had tried to show him, time and again, that he was still the man she had fallen in love with yet he refused to see it, viewing himself as an unworthy failure instead.

It broke her heart to see him so unsure of himself, she had no idea what had changed in him last night but at this point in time she didn't really care either. Some small part of the man Horatio once was had returned, now was not the time to tempt providence, it was a positive move forwards and they finally had something that they could build on.

"Good morning."

His low, smoky voice made her jump. Her eyes had been so transfixed by the rise and fall of his scarred chest that she had failed to notice he'd woken.

She leant forwards and greeted him with a loving kiss on the lips.

"Morning," she replied in that beautiful Southern tone that he adored. "Did you sleep well?"

He took a few moments to think, as if trying to find some small piece of evidence that would suggest otherwise. To his surprise he came up empty. "I believe I did, how about you?"

"It was blissful."

He moved his head back further as he lay on the pillows, trying to get a better angle with which to look at her with.

"No regrets?" he asked quietly.

Her answer was a gentle kiss which soon turned into something deeper.

"Never."

There were certain advantages to waking up early when you had a beautiful woman in your bed. Their kiss had turned into something much more meaningful as they once again explored each other's bodies. The more she touched him the quieter the voices in his head became. She had run her fingertips over the marks on his body and no longer did he feel a sense of shame as she touched him, he felt the love that she held for him as she attempted to kiss away the pain that his abductors had caused him.

Their second time had been better than the first; there was something so deep on an emotional level when their bodies became one, something so much more than just a physical connection. When they made love it wasn't just a case of going through the motions, it was a declaration of the love they felt for one another. It was perhaps the first time he'd felt this way about a woman since Lori.

Lori, he'd loved her deeply, perhaps too deeply. She and Calleigh were alike in so many ways, strong and independent, never afraid to voice their own opinions. In hindsight it became obvious that he felt more deeply for Lori than she did for him. He had wanted to love and protect her and his overbearing need to care for her had eventually pushed her away. She had told him during one particularly bitter argument that he was stifling her and that she needed her own space and her own independence, she had been cruel and cold towards him as her words cut into him like a knife.

He doubted that Lori would ever have stuck by him the last few months; she would have tired of his pitying behaviour and left him to his own devices long ago. There were dark moments when he doubted that there was ever a caring bone in her body. She was driven by her career and sacrificed anything that dared stand in the way of getting her to where she wanted to be.

There were times when he was convinced that Lori was the right woman for him; she had her faults but then so did he. Relationships were about compromise, loving your partner despite their weaknesses. It was a rule that served their marriage well for a while but the cracks would make their presence known eventually as their arguments became more frequent and her cutting words increasingly cruel.

Calleigh was different, she didn't want to change him, so complex a man that he was. She accepted him for who he was and loved him despite of his faults. She'd seen him at his lowest yet still stood by him, her faith in him never once wavering despite all that he had put her through.

Walking through into the kitchen, he fussed Moses as he held him in his arms. Calleigh greeted him with a smile as he walked towards her and kissed her gently, laughing as the cat in his arms mewed his annoyance at being trapped between the two lovers.

"Horatio, there's something we need to talk about."

He frowned at her serious expression as he felt the hope that things were improving drain slowly away.

"Internal Affairs have been sniffing around for the last few days interviewing the team. They want to talk to you today."

She watched him as he placed the cat down on the floor and sat at the wooden table.

"I see."

"They're going to ask you some tough questions…promise me that you won't do anything foolish," she implored him as she sat next to him.

"Foolish?"

"Don't sacrifice yourself for me, don't go in there and give them any reason to hold you accountable for what happened, none of this was your fault."

He opened his mouth to speak but found himself cut off.

"They're trying to suggest that the death of those four officers was somehow our fault."

"And they'd be right, Calleigh. I was arrogant to underestimate what the Malucci's were capable of…..if I had heeded Collins warning….none of this would have happened."

She let out a growl of frustration. "That's exactly what they want you to say; can't you see that you'll be playing straight into their hands?"

"Rather me than you, Calleigh," he responded softly as he rubbed a thumb over the polished surface of the table."

"Horatio, for God's sake, you were incapacitated. I was in charge at that time; it was my decision to post the officers outside my house. Everything that happened before and after that was _my _responsibility, not yours."

"But you did it for me. You don't deserve to have your career and reputation ruined because you were trying to protect me." He reached out and placed a hand on her arm. "I don't have as many years left on the job as you do, it would be better all-round if I….."

His words were cut off as she snatched her arm away.

"You are _not s_acrificing yourself for me!"

"Calleigh, they'll find out about the incident at the warehouse sooner or later. It's only a matter of time before they find enough reason to force me into early retirement…..they'll find out about my sessions with the therapist too."

"No they won't," she responded quietly, suddenly becoming cagey.

Her behaviour heightened his already aroused suspicions. "What have you done?"

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, Yesterday afternoon:**

The two women met in their usual spot in the park across the street from the Crime Lab. It had been a special place for the two of them, a place they would meet on a daily basis when they both worked at the Department. Although times had changed considerably, the police force was still a male-oriented environment and sometimes the level of pure testosterone became too much for Alexx and Calleigh to bear and so they would seek refuge in the warm Miami sunshine, chitchatting in an effort to relieve some of the tension that their jobs inevitably entailed.

"It's another nice day," Alexx smiled as she sat down next to Calleigh on the park bench, smiling at the fact that her friend was ready and waiting with coffee and muffins.

"Thanks for meeting me here, Alexx."

"Everything ok, Sugar?" the doctor asked, suddenly becoming concerned that something was wrong. "Is it Horatio, has something happened?"

Calleigh nodded her head slightly, trying to retain her sense of poise. "Alexx…something happened before Horatio went to that session. I had to relieve him of field duty….he's not fit to be out there."

"But he went to see Jeff, didn't he?"

Calleigh nodded her head as she turned the Styrofoam cup around in her hands. "I know it's going to take him time to get back to where he was…."

"But?"

"IAB are sniffing around, they've noticed that Horatio's been ducking in and out…..not logging time in the field. They're asking questions, Alexx."

"Have you told them anything…do they know what's going on?"

Calleigh gave her friend an incredulous look. "You know as well as I do that they'd put him on administrative leave the moment they even had a whiff of what happened." She took a deep breath before continuing, "The IAB officer, Sargent Craig, she's been checking the shift logs….she's already asking questions about where Horatio has been going. It's not like I can just up and tell her that he's going to see a shrink, can I?"

Experience and years of friendship had taught Alexx well, she sensed that soon enough she would hear something that she wouldn't like.

"What are you saying, Calleigh?"

Calleigh looked at her old friend, feeling terrible for even thinking of asking.

Alexx had sat quietly and listened to the woman sitting next to her, hearing the fear in her voice as she tried to convince the doctor that her plan had merit. She had considered Horatio a brother to her, the years they had spent working with each other had brought them together as more than friends. From the moment she had met him she could sense that he was a lonely soul with no real family of his own, from that day on she took it upon herself to make him a part of her own, his isolation serving to teach her that family was a precious gift and not a God-given right.

No matter the pain or heartache that he had suffered, he had always stood by her, providing a shoulder to cry on and a pillar of support when she felt the weight of her role in the morgue become too much for her. When she had finally made the decision to leave he was the one person that she'd dreaded telling. She had expected him to be mad at her or even disappointed, yet he had taken her by surprise as he kissed her cheek tenderly and gave her his blessing. It was yet another example of how the man had placed the happiness of others above his own.

She would have done anything to help him; Calleigh was asking something of her that she wasn't sure she could commit to. She had been the doctor in charge of his primary care in those long and harrowing weeks only a few short months ago, she had borne witness to the savagery that was inflicted on one of her closest friends and had stood by watching him flounder as he attempted to come to terms with his emotional issues and physical limitations.

"Calleigh…what you're asking….." Alexx began, not quite sure how to articulate the number of emotions that were coursing through her.

"Alexx, you know I would never ask this of you if I wasn't absolutely sure that I didn't have any other choice…..his career is at risk here."

"And so could ours be," the doctor shot back quickly.

"Internal Affairs are going to come asking as to why Horatio's not been out in the field….you know we can't tell them the truth."

"So you want me to lie, Sugar?"

"No…just be a little creative with the truth. I told Sargent Craig that the kickback from Horatio's Sig caused his broken arm to be injured again and that it needs a few more weeks before his physically fit enough to be out in the field. She's going to come to you looking for proof of that."

"So you want me to sign him off for some fictitious injury, what if she demands to look at his medical records, x-rays, scans, looking for proof?"

"I'm hoping you'll stonewall her, she'd need a court order to gain access to his current medical records. All she has right now is her own suspicions, she's got no grounds to go to a judge and ask for a warrant. All I'm asking is that you stick to the story and then hopefully all of this will go away."

"Calleigh….." the doctor began.

"Alexx, I'm begging you here. Horatio has never asked you for anything before; I need to know that you're on our side."

It was bad enough that Calleigh was asking her to be a part of it, was Horatio behind it too?

"He has no idea that I'm here before you ask," Calleigh responded as if she'd read the doctor's mind.

Alexx shot her friend a sour look, pursing her lips as she spoke. "You do realise he's going to have a fit when he finds out what you've done."

Calleigh responded with a tired sigh, a sad smile gracing her beautiful features. "That's for me to worry about. Will you help me, Alexx…please?"

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

He sat with his elbows resting on the kitchen table, his hands covering his mouth as he attempted to understand what he'd just been told, taking deep breaths as he tried to figure out how on earth they were going to wriggle their way out of this one.

"Horatio, talk to me," Calleigh pleaded as she saw the faraway look in his eyes, flinching when he finally pinned her with a mammoth glare.

The speed with which he stood up and shot away from the table caught her by surprise.

"How could you have been so stupid?" he shouted as he planted his hands firmly on his hips. "Do you have any idea what you have just done?"

"Horatio, I did it for you….I was trying to save your career," she implored him as she made her way over to him, only to be stopped by his hands as he held them up to warn her off.

"It's not just my career that's on the line now, if this gets out….it'll take you and Alexx down too," he finished quietly as the anger quickly dissipated and turned to abject sadness.

"Don't you see that I didn't have any other choice?" she pleaded with him as she took another step towards him as he took another back. The pained look in his eyes felt like a dagger to her heart, he looked disappointed in her.

"Why did you do it?" he asked her desperately as he ran a hand through his hair as he threw his head back. "Last night…I trusted you…I let you in and you betrayed me. Do you have any idea how hard that was for me to do?"

It hit her then, what she had done with the best of intentions, after months of waiting Horatio had finally opened up to her, gave himself up to her only for her to place him in an impossible situation. He'd be forced to go along with her plan, the only other choice being the end of Calleigh and Alexx's careers as well as his own.

After feeling so helpless and out of control for so many months, he had finally started on the long road to recovery only for the woman he loved and trusted to take it all away from him. It began to dawn on her what a monumental mistake she might have just made.

"Horatio," she began as she tried to take another step towards him.

"Don't," he growled before turning his back on her and leaving the house, slamming the door behind him.

It was only when she heard the sound of gravel skidding under the wheels of Horatio's car that it all became too much for her to bear. Sliding down the kitchen cupboard until she touched the floor, leaning her head on her folded arms she wept.


	45. Chapter 45

It would be pointless to spend all day crying over something that she could no longer change, that was what she had told herself anyway as she sat at the desk in Horatio's office signing off on the countless reports and files that had landed on the desk. She had tried calling and texting her lover but to no avail, she knew that he was well within his rights to be furious with her at the moment, her only hope was the once he had cooled off that he would at least be willing to talk it over with her.

He had kept himself busy during the morning as he processed evidence from several different cases, yet try as he might he could not take his mind off of his earlier conversation with Calleigh. How could she have been so foolish and thoughtless as to risk everything for him?

How could she risk the reputation of the Lab and everything he stood for?

He'd been angry, livid even, that she could have done such a thing. What had made it even worse was that she had gone behind his back and done it, it felt like a betrayal of the trust that he had placed in her. Why hadn't she just been honest and told him last night, before he bared his very soul to her?

Maybe it had served to validate that he was right not to trust other people, that keeping his distance was the most effective way to keep him from being hurt yet again. Once the anger had dissipated he began to see things in a slightly different light, realising that she had done it because she loved him and not because she wanted to hurt him.

His ego prevented him from accepting any overtures of forgiveness from her, perhaps it had been callous of him to ignore her calls and attempts to get in contact all morning but a small part of him wanted her to hurt just as much as he did.

He cursed his over-active conscience as he began to feel bad for snubbing her attempts to apologise, locking away the evidence he had just processed, he made his way to his office.

_Her office,_ he corrected himself as he made the long walk, wondering exactly how they would move on from here.

Standing outside the office that used to be his own private domain, he felt slightly nervous, as if he were a naughty schoolboy being summoned to see the headmaster. He knocked firmly on the door and waited for the invitation to enter.

He entered the room with the intent of sorting out their earlier disagreement; all thoughts of doing so exited his mind as he saw the second figure sitting on the couch in the corner of the room.

* * *

Sargent Hillary Craig pulled the cell phone out of her attaché case and read the message she had just received.

_How much longer are you going to keep ignoring me?_

_Until you get the message and leave me alone, _she thought as she shook her head and threw the phone back in her bag. She didn't want to hear from him, not after the way he had spoken to her last time. She thought they were friends yet he viewed her in the same way as every other cop did, that she was not to be trusted.

She had a job to do, she needed to concentrate on the task at hand not spend her time trying to justify her career choices to someone she hadn't spoken to in years. Her superiors were expecting answers, the investigation into the actions of the Miami Dade Police Department's Crime Lab were already taking longer than she had expected. She'd been stonewalled at every turn, no one willing to give her even the smallest piece of evidence to go on.

All of the evidence she'd collected so far was circumstantial, a few attendance records here and there and a handful of second-hand gossip that she had gleaned from unsuspecting officers. So far there was no substantiated proof that either CSI Duquesne or her superior, Lieutenant Caine, had done anything wrong.

It could be entirely possible that there was no dirt to be dug on either of them; perhaps her findings would show that both of them were capable and trustworthy leaders of the laboratory department that they supervised. Questions still had to be asked, physical evidence underpinned every case that was tried in court, there simply had to be irrefutable proof that the Lab was above suspicion, its reputation had to be beyond repute.

It was her job to prove that, and to do it she would have to ask questions, questions that a lot of officers might not want to be asked. She would dig, and keep on digging, until she had proved one way or another that the correct people were in charge of the department.

* * *

He stood by the open door of his office, sunglasses in a tight grip.

"Simon, it's been a long time," Horatio said as he kept his gaze towards his hands.

The younger man stood up and straightened himself, holding his hand out, relieved when Horatio took it.

"It's good to see you, Lieutenant," he replied as he smiled at him.

"Forgive me for asking…..what are you doing here?"

"Miss Duquesne called me," Simon paused as he saw his former bomb squad colleague's eyes shoot towards the blonde woman sitting behind the desk. "I'm the MDPD union rep; I understand that you've been called before Internal Affairs?"

Horatio's gaze returned to his ever-present sunglasses. "That's correct; I'm expecting a call from Sargent Craig any moment now."

"I'll be accompanying you to the meeting," the younger man said confidently.

"Simon…..that won't be necessary."

"Well, your superior seems to think otherwise," he said good naturedly as he pointed to Calleigh. "She's still in charge of the Lab at the moment, I'm sure you know that her word is final."

Calleigh watched nervously as Horatio gave her a patented stare, noticing how the muscles twitched in his cheeks, a clear sign that he was not pleased with her.

He painted a smile on his face as he looked at Simon, "Would you give us a moment please?"

"Sure."

He waited until Simon had left the room before making his way towards the desk that used to be his, leaning forward as he spoke. "Don't make the mistake of thinking this is over, Calleigh. We will talk about this….you can be sure of it."

He didn't give her a chance to reply as he left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. She would take his anger though, if it meant that by the end of the day he still had a job and career. Simon Hutchings was a good man and just so happened to be the union representative for the Department, after the help he had provided when Horatio had been abducted she knew that she could trust him, she just hoped Horatio would too.

He had received the call from Sargent Craig not long after he had left Calleigh speechless in the supervisor's office. It had perhaps been the first time that he had ever been pleased to be summoned to a meeting with Internal Affairs, the small talk with Simon had been awkward at best. He entered the interview room with Simon following closely behind, the younger man making himself comfortable at the desk as they waited for Sargent Craig to arrive.

They were not left waiting long as the smartly-dressed young woman entered the room a short while later, her navy blue power suit giving the image that she was a woman who would get straight down to business.

"Lieutenant Caine, how nice to meet you at last," the young woman drawled as she gave him a smug grin.

"Sargent Craig," he replied by way of greeting as he stood in the corner of the room, adopting his favoured side-on pose.

"Please, take a seat," she offered as she made herself comfortable at the table, sitting opposite the room's other inhabitant.

"How nice, Lieutenant, you brought a friend."

_Not by choice_, he thought as he kept his head pointed slightly downwards whilst maintaining his view of the woman who was about to grill him.

"I'm Sargent Hutchings," the other man said as he introduced himself only to receive a frosty response from the IAB officer.

"Yes, I know full well who you are, Sargent. What I would like to know is why are you sitting in on this interview? I'm sure the Lieutenant is more than capable of handling this on his own." Her eyes darted to the silent and stiff figure standing in the corner of the room who was watching her distrustfully.

"I'm the Department's union rep. I know that Internal Affairs seem to have somewhat of a penchant for targeting the Lieutenant, I'm here to make sure that nothing untoward happens."

"How sweet," she deadpanned as she flipped her folder open and perused the pages inside, drawing out the process in an effort to heighten the tension in the room.

"Let's begin shall we?" she asked as she pinned the Lieutenant with her steely gaze. If it had affected him, he failed to show it as he matched it with one of his own.

"Several months ago you were approached by FBI Agent Richard Collins, correct?"

"That's correct," Horatio replied, deliberately evasive.

"What did the two of you talk about?"

"It wasn't a discussion, I asked Agent Collins to leave and not to return."

"Did he warn you of the Malucci organisation's intention to track you down in Miami?"

"He did."

"And why did you not heed his warning?"

The Lieutenant had opened his mouth to reply but was unable to utter a word before Hutchings had spoken for him.

"You should know, Sargent Craig, that the Lieutenant was injured the very same day that Agent Collins visited him here at the Department. The Lieutenant simply had no time to take any sort of action before he was incapacitated."

The IAB officer gave Simon a withering glare before directing another question at Horatio.

"I have spoken to Agent Collins and he informs me that he had tried to contact you several times before he met with you. So I will ask you again, why did you not heed his warning?"

"The Lieutenant does not have to answer that question," Simon interjected. "Do you actually have any pertinent questions to ask him? Otherwise, this conversation is over."

She could feel herself getting increasingly frustrated; the interview with the reluctant Lieutenant Caine was not turning out the way she had hoped. It certainly didn't help that he had brought a guard dog in the form of Sargent Hutchings to protect himself with.

Even through the outward display of a calm and confident man, Hillary Craig could sense a certain level of uncertainty in the head of the Crime Lab. Perhaps it would only take a few carefully worded questions or accusations to crack the monosyllabic man open wide.

"Let's talk about you current living arrangements. You own a house in the South Beach area, is that correct?"

"It is, Sargent," Horatio replied as he kept himself in the shadows of the room, only glancing up at the rooms other occupants occasionally.

"I have it on good authority that you have not resided there for the last four months, any particular reason for that?"

Again, Simon interrupted before Horatio said anything that could be construed as incriminating. "Lieutenant Caine was severely injured as a result of his abduction and subsequent torture, there was simply no way that he could've cared for himself after being discharged from the hospital."

"But as we can see, the Lieutenant is fit enough to return to his duties in the Department. I'm sure by now that a grown man such as he can look after himself." Sargent Craig's tone was snide and insinuating.

"My living arrangements are none of your concern, Sargent," Horatio growled menacingly.

The IAB officer smiled, knowing that she had hit a nerve. "You do know that it is against Department policy to fraternise with a subordinate?"

"Lieutenant Caine's personal life is not up for discussion, Miss Craig. Should there be any 'fraternisation' between the Lieutenant and one of his subordinates that would be a matter for the Chief to decide on, not a Sargent in the Internal Affairs Bureau."

_Damn, this guy is good. _Sargent Craig gave her counterpart a stiff smile before returning her attention to the file on the table, attempting to gather her thoughts before she tried chipping away at the figure standing off to the side in the shaded darkness of the room, an unwilling participant in her ploy to find something to pin on him.

"I've been perusing the shift logs, Lieutenant Caine. It appears that you've not spent much time out in the field since your return, would you care to explain why that is?"

_Here it comes. _He knew that he would have no other option than to lie to her, it was of no consequence that he was still incensed with Calleigh and her foolish actions, but he would not sacrifice her career along with his own. It pained him to be dishonest, it had been something that he had been forced into almost twenty years ago and now here he was, being forced to do the same thing again.

"You've already had this discussion with CSI Duquesne; you know that the Lieutenant suffered an adverse reaction to discharging a weapon in the firearms lab. He has been advised to rest his recently injured arm for a number of days until he is certified by his physician as fit enough to return to field duty."

The whole situation was becoming more farcical by the minute, now Simon had implicated himself in the whole sorry affair by reiterating what Calleigh had obviously schooled him into saying when they had met earlier.

"Perhaps you should meet with Dr Woods, she's the doctor who has been in charge of the Lieutenant's care during his recovery," Simon suggested a few moments later.

_I already have. _Meeting with the outwardly friendly doctor had been an exercise in futility, she had given her nothing in the way of evidence to suggest that what she had been told by CSI Duquesne and now Sargent Hutchings was anything but the truth.

* * *

Making her way into Dade Memorial hospital, Sargent Craig shifted the case she was carrying and walked across to the main reception desk intent on speaking to the doctor who had been in charge of Lieutenant Caine's care and recovery. She sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair in the waiting area when directed to and waited for the elusive Dr Alexx Woods to arrive.

"Sargent Craig?" an athletic-looking black woman dressed in a white doctor's coat asked her as she stood up.

"That's correct, Dr Woods I presume?"

The doctor nodded her head and narrowed her eyes at her unexpected visitor. "Was there something I could help you with?"

"Yes. I'm here to speak to you about Lieutenant Horatio Caine; I believe that you were the physician in charge of his care when he was brought in approximately four months ago?"

Alexx visibly shuddered at the thought as images flew unbidden her mind of the sorry state her dear friend had been brought in. "That's correct, perhaps we should take this to my office?" she suggested as she motioned to the other woman to follow her.

Once they were safely ensconced in her office, Alexx dropped the outwardly friendly demeanour that she had previously given off. "What is it that you want?"

"I have some concerns as to the actions of some members of the Miami Dade Crime Lab; I believe that you worked there several years ago in the capacity of Medical Examiner?"

"That's correct."

"And why did you choose to leave? Were there issues that caused you to end your employment?"

"Yes."

"Was it because you found yourself unable to work with some of your colleagues anymore? Were there clashes in personality between yourself and more senior members of the team?"

"No, there were not, young lady. I left because I wanted to spend more time with the living than I did the dead. My decision to leave the Crime Lab had nothing to do with Horatio or Calleigh if that's what you're insinuating. I have nothing but respect for the both of them."

"Were you close to the Lieutenant during your time at the Department?"

"Yes, I was."

"Surely you must feel some anger towards CSI Duquesne then? Lieutenant Caine was missing for over 48 hours and as I understand it, was subjected to some rather brutal treatment during that time. Perhaps CSI Duquesne could have taken different actions that would have resulted in the Lieutenant being found much more expediently."

Alexx had tried her hardest not to be riled by the smug woman standing in front of her, after listening to the barrage of snide accusations and insults she'd almost reached her limit. "Calleigh and the team did everything they could to find him; if it wasn't for them he'd probably be dead!"

Sargent Craig smiled in such a self-satisfied manner that Alexx almost wanted to reach over and smack the stupid expression straight off her face.

"CSI Duquesne tells me that the Lieutenant is unable to operate in the field due to an injury to his left arm, is that correct?"

It had been the question that the doctor had been dreading to hear ever since her heated conversation with Calleigh the previous day. She had agreed, begrudgingly, to go along with her plan and prayed silently to God that it wouldn't end up blowing up in their faces. "Yes, that's true," she answered finally.

"But the Lieutenant has just passed a physical evaluation; surely it would have been spotted then?"

Now it was Alexx's turn to plaster a smug smile on her face, the IAB officer obviously had little in the way of knowledge of the human body. Hopefully she would be able to blind the young woman with medical science and terminology.

"Have you ever had a baseball smashed down on your forearm, Sgt Craig?" She didn't wait for the other woman to respond before continuing. "Have you any idea how painful it is to have a shattered radius and ulna, to have them surgically repaired with plates and pins?"

"It took five hours of surgery to put the pieces of his arm back together, he's lucky he can use the arm at all. It took weeks of healing and physiotherapy to get a full range of motions back. It's not an exact science when it comes to injuries like that, it seems as if the everyday use of that arm has caused the pain to flare up again, it's not as strong as it used to be."

"But it will heal?" the IAB officer asked as she scribbled something down in the file in front of her.

"With time."

"How much time, Dr Woods?"

"Impossible to say," she replied, giving as little information away as she could.

"I'd like to see proof of the injury that is allegedly impeding the Lieutenant's ability to carry out his full duties as a police officer."

The doctor nodded her head curtly and made her way to a filing cabinet, searching through it until she had located one file in particular. "These are images of the injuries the Lieutenant sustained," she said curtly as she spread several gruesome photos of Horatio across the desk for her visitor to see, all of them being taken on the day he had been brought into her ER barely alive.

Picking up one photo in particular, she shoved it under the young woman's nose. "This is what his arm looked like after his torturers had finished with it."

The photo showed a heavily swollen lower arm and four bent and broken fingers, what little areas of flesh that weren't swollen or bruised were covered in cuts and burns.

"This is what a shattered arm looks like, Sargent Craig," she said firmly as she pointed her finger to the horrific picture.

Although unsettled by what she had just seen, Sargent Craig would not be deterred from the job at hand. "I'd like you to show me substantiated proof that this injury is still impeding the Lieutenant's ability to carry out his duties."

"No can do, Sargent. Unless you've got a court order or Horatio's permission I'm not showing you any of his current medical records."

"I will get a warrant for those records, Dr Woods."

"You do that then. Unless you have anything else, this conversation is over."

* * *

"Sargent Craig, this is obviously just a fishing expedition for you. You have nothing in the way of proof that Lieutenant Caine has done anything wrong, you have insufficient grounds for a warrant to compel his medical records and we have no reason to sit here any longer. This interview is over."

The two men had left the room before she'd even had time to ask another question and it wasn't until she heard the door slam behind her that she allowed her heavy shoulders to slump. Her investigation into the Crime Lab was heading nowhere fast; perhaps she was barking up the wrong tree and would find nothing untoward. It had been another fruitless day, she'd been unable to glean any new information that could be used against either of her intended targets and was unlikely to gain anything by staying in the Department a minute longer than she had to.

Loathe as she was to admit it, she had found nothing which she could take back to her superiors apart from her own suspicions which she knew would not hold much weight with the Chief. All that was left to do now was to write up her findings and place the report on her superior's desk. She knew one thing for certain though; the Crime Lab was firmly on her radar, something that was unlikely to change anytime soon.


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N: I'd just like to let you all know that I will also be posting alerts on my Twitter and Tumblr pages when I post new chapters, my handle for both sites is Teeheehee1234 if you'd like to follow me.**

* * *

The gangly form of Simon Hutchings was about to turn to his former bomb squad colleague until he realised that the redheaded man was no longer beside him. He cursed the older man's ability to slip silently away as he searched up and down the corridor until he eventually found him at the far end, sunglasses in his hands as he twiddled them.

"Nice to see some things don't change," Simon teased as he caught up with Horatio and was rewarded with a blank look from the other man.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean, Simon."

"You always were light on your feet, that's what made you such a good bomb squad tech. That and the fact that you've got balls of steel."

"I could've handled the Sargent in there," Horatio finally spoke a few awkward moments later.

"And I'm sure you would have done a sterling job in sacrificing yourself, Horatio. Believe me, I know."

"Excuse me?" Horatio replied, as he stood side on with his hands on his hips, his favoured pose of authority.

"You heard me," Simon replied, refusing to be intimidated.

"I think you forget who you're speaking to, Simon," the Lieutenant warned in a low voice.

"I know exactly who I'm speaking to, the guy who stood in front of a Goddamn bomb for me. The guy who went against his superior's orders to save a colleague's life. I know you, Horatio, sacrificing yourself is what you do. It's who you are."

He could sense that what he hoped would be a friendly conversation between two old colleagues was quickly beginning to turn into something much more hostile. He took a deep breath and tried again. "Let me buy you a coffee, for old time's sake?"

"I'm afraid I have things that I need to attend to, Simon," Horatio began as he tried to wriggle his way out of yet another well-meaning conversation with a concerned friend.

"No way, you're not getting out of it that easily. Come on, let's go."

It appeared as if Simon was not going to take no for an answer, with a dramatic sigh he followed the bomb squad technician out of the Crime Lab and towards the familiar surroundings of the park across the street.

He sat on the bench, waiting for the younger man to say something to him.

"Isn't this the part where you give me some sort of sage advice, Simon?"

The Sargent looked at his old colleague and laughed. "Since when have you ever listened to anything I said?"

From the wry smile on Simon's face he could tell that he was being teased, he felt a warm sensation begin to wash over him as he found himself enjoying the friendly banter. It had been too many years since their paths had crossed, since his transfer to the Crime Lab he had always intended to keep in contact with his young protégé. Intentions were nothing without actions though; months had turned into years before either of them had realised but he had always kept an eye out and watched the younger man's progress in his chosen career.

Simon had been a tall, gangly and uncoordinated sort of fellow when he had first met him and he had serious concerns that the nervy young man would ever have the poise and grace needed to disarm explosive devices. The poor boy's progress had been painfully slow at first; it had taken weeks of encouraging and cajoling until Simon had been able to disarm a test device without his hands shaking uncontrollably. It was just sheer bad luck on Simon's part that he had triggered a motion activated device that nearly cost both men their lives.

Being caught in a bomb blast had been a new thing for both of them and not something that either of them ever wanted to repeat. Being stuck in that hospital room with Simon had forced him to spend time with another person, something that he had not been used to during his last few years in New York. The emotional wounds of his time undercover for the FBI still ran deep and he had tried valiantly to keep his distance from anyone who attempted to get too near.

He had fended off Simon's attempts to strike up a meaningful friendship and chose to treat him as just another colleague to be kept at arm's length. He had been touched when the young man had told him of his new-born son's middle name but he felt as if it were an honour that he did not deserve, not after the things he had done in his past.

Hindsight caused Horatio to question if he did the right thing all those years ago when Simon came knocking at his door.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 1998:**

He'd been released from the hospital a few weeks previously after being deemed fit enough to look after himself. After a couple of weeks being cooped up in a hospital, he was glad to return to the familiar surroundings of his own home. If he were being honest with himself he would have admitted that after all the noise and movement that a hospital provided it made his own house seem eerily quiet in comparison.

Al had visited him on an almost daily basis and although he appreciated the older man's concern there were times when he just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts. His superior would not take no for an answer on the morning that the doctor finally signed his discharge papers and released him from the hospital's care. The big, burly form of Al Humphries had insisted on carrying his paltry bag of clothes and belongings even though he insisted that he could carry them himself, being hindered by a pair of crutches did not help his argument any though.

Al had blabbered on at him all through the car journey back to his own home, he didn't really pay much attention to what the other man had been saying and had by now learnt to nod his head and smile every so often to give the impression that he was actually listening to him. His boss had also visited most days since he'd been home, checking on him before and after work to see if he'd needed anything. He appreciated his superior's concern, he just wasn't sure he deserved it.

He could feel his eyes getting heavy as he continued to read the book that Al had brought him to read during his convalescence, a large tome dedicated entirely to the fine art of bomb disposal and detonation. It had been with a smile on his face that the older man instructed his subordinate to read the book from cover to cover and insisted that it was ideal homework for him. He'd sat with the large book on his lap for the last few hours, the words were starting to blur in front of his eyes and even several cups of black coffee failed to keep him alert.

He sat up straight with a start as he heard the front doorbell chime, the sudden movement causing his still aching body to protest as he let out a deep groan and grabbed at his sore ribs. Curious as to who could be at the door, he grabbed his crutches and hobbled into the hallway.

"Simon, how are you?" He asked as he saw the lanky frame of his young teammate standing awkwardly in his doorway.

"Good thanks, it's been my first week back since…."

He could tell that the younger man still blamed himself for the incident even though there was nothing that either of them could have done; it was just pure bad luck that Simon had triggered the device.

After a few minutes of standing, leaning his weight on his crutches, his body began to signal its displeasure at being made to support his current position. He adjusted his body weight as he looked at Simon curiously.

"Was there something I can do for you?" he asked as he tried to keep the grimace from his face.

Simon seemed to come back to his senses, as if realising that he had actually come to visit his colleague for a reason. "Can I come in for a minute?"

He thought momentarily about deciding against it, his house was his own private domain, a place where he felt he could shut out the rest of the world and keep to himself. One glance at Simon told him that the man obviously had something he wanted to say, his compassion for his colleague and his own need to sit down made the decision for him as he nodded his head and shuffled ungainly out of the way and opened the door wider.

"Simon, what is it?" he asked when they were settled in the kitchen, both of them with a steaming cup of coffee in front of them.

"You know that Tanya's had the baby?"

"I do," he replied as he took a sip of his coffee, "A boy I believe."

"Yep, Jacob Caine Hutchings," Simon replied proudly causing the other man to splutter his coffee and choke on the liquid that had slid down his throat.

It took a few minutes for him to regain his composure; still not sure that he'd heard Simon correctly.

"The christening is coming up in a few weeks; Tanya and I were hoping that you'd do us the honour of being Jake's godfather?"

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"Who did you choose in the end?" Horatio asked quietly, keeping his gaze on his coffee and not the man he was sitting with.

"An old school friend. It's shame though; I know you would have made an excellent godfather."

Horatio said nothing and nodded his head sadly. "For what it's worth, Simon, I'm sorry."

"It's ok, I understand, certainly a lot better now than when you turned me down all those years ago."

Simon cursed himself; he'd just inadvertently given Horatio another reason to blame himself for something he couldn't control.

"I would've, Simon, if I could have…I didn't want you or your family getting messed up in my life…..you deserved better than that."

A sombre silence descended on the pair.

"How is Jake?" Horatio asked as he watched a couple of children playing on the swings in the park, making the most of the humid afternoon.

"He's at college now, makes me feel old," Simon joked as he cracked a wry grin. "I met your son a few months back, Kyle isn't it?"

Horatio nodded his head, a wistful smile crossing his face as he thought of his precious boy and the deep bond they had formed. "Yes, it is."

"He's a lot like you…..a man of action, stubborn as a mule….He adores you, I could see it in the way he acted while you were missing. That kid would've done anything he could to find you; you know…we all would."

"He's a good boy….I'm proud of him."

"He's in the Army, isn't he?"

"He is," Horatio replied succinctly, preferring not to think of his only child in potential danger.

Being a parent himself, Simon could understand the concern that Horatio felt for his son. No matter how old your child was you still worried about them each and every day, it was what a parent did.

"You never stop worrying about them, no matter how old they get."

Horatio regarded Simon for a moment before dropping his head back down. "That's true."

"My daughter, Kiki, she's just coming up for sixteen. I swear I'd never let her leave the house if I could. She's all into boys and makeup at the moment, boys are much easier to parent, believe me."

"You're lucky, Simon. You have a wonderful family…..look after them; it's a precious gift to have children and to be able to watch them grow."

"I know, and I'm thankful for them every day, even when they do drive me mad." He watched the older man who still had that wistful and slightly sad look on his face.

"Don't be mad at Calleigh for calling me, she made the right decision. She cares for you, Horatio."

He felt a pang of guilt as his thoughts returned to Calleigh and the way they had left things in the office. He was still angry with her, both of them were stubborn and would be reluctant to back down from their position, one of them would have to make the first move, he just wasn't sure if he wanted it to be him.

_Pride comes before a fall, old man._

"You've got something good there with her, don't throw it away over some jumped up IAB officer. Your team care a great deal for you, Horatio."

He nodded his head again, "I know."

"Anyway, I have to get back," Simon declared as he looked at his watch and stood, holding his hand out to his former colleague. "Let's not leave it so long next time, eh?"

He stood and shook the proffered hand. "Simon…I know that I was never much of a friend back then, but I'd like the chance to change that…..if I could," he asked hopefully.

"Me too," the younger man agreed. "Take care of yourself, Horatio."

He returned Simon's warm smile with one of his own. "You too, Simon...You too."


	47. Chapter 47

She called out to him as she saw his tall form walk past her office door.

"Eric, have you got a sec?" she said loudly as she shuffled a handful of papers and placed them to one side.

Her colleague, and one-time lover, ambled back towards the open door and popped his head round. "Hey, Cal. How's it going?"

She let out an exaggerated breath as she blew hair back from her forehead. "It's been a long day. I just wanted to know if Sargent Craig has been to see you yet."

Judging by the sour look on Eric's face it was obvious that the fastidious Internal Affairs officer had subjected him to the third degree too. "Yeah, she came looking for me. I told her where to get off….why do you ask?"

Eric shut the door behind him and sat in the chair in front of the desk as Calleigh motioned him to move closer.

"She came by looking for Horatio earlier," she began.

"How long ago was that? Have you seen him since?" Eric spluttered as he tried to fight the rising sense of alarm that he felt, he knew Horatio was likely to have fallen on his sword in order to protect his team at any cost.

"Eric, calm down…I sent an old friend to sit in with him, I'm hoping that he made sure Horatio didn't say something that you or I would end up regretting."

"Who?" he asked, curious as to the identity of the person Horatio would have let accompany him into an interview with IAB.

"And old friend of from his bomb squad days, Simon Hutchings, do you know him?"

Eric shrugged his shoulders. "Only in passing. I guess he was the one I saw Horatio leaving with about an hour ago, he didn't look that happy either."

"Who, Horatio or Simon?" she asked humourlessly.

He replied with a frown of his own. "Who do you think?"

The two of them shared a knowing look; Horatio hated asking for help or even admitting that he needed it. Eric was well aware that being accompanied to an interview by someone else was something that his brother in law would not have readily agreed to and had likely been forced into accepting the other man's help.

"Have you seen him come back yet?" Calleigh asked, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

Eric shook his head. "Nope, you tried ringing him?"

She gave her colleague a pained look. "I'm not exactly in his good books at the moment; I get the feeling that he's deliberately ignoring me."

He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "Give him time, Cal. You know what H is like, he's a proud man."

"How's the Simpson case going?" Calleigh asked after a moment's pause, glad to change the subject and think of something else rather than how she was going to make things up with Horatio.

"We haven't been able to match the prints and DNA we found to anyone in the databases, uniformed officers are still keeping tabs on Fernandez but they haven't been able to give us anything in the way of new suspects yet."

"Keep trying, Eric. We need to catch a break on the case soon; we've got others piling up around us that need our attention too."

"Will do, Calleigh…..any idea on when H is gonna be back out in the field with us?" he asked after a moment's pause.

"Hopefully when this pointless IAB investigation has finished, things will settle down. Look….I know it hasn't been easy for any of us recently, I'm sorry if I've come across as harsh to you…It's just….this job isn't easy, you know."

"Makes you wonder how H did it all these years, huh?"

The two of them exchanged another meaningful look before Eric spoke again. "If you ever need to talk, Cal, you know where you can find me, ok?"

She gave him a grateful smile as he stood up and left the room. "Thanks, Eric."

* * *

The office was almost deserted by the time Hillary Craig had made it back to her desk, it had been another long and uncomfortable afternoon, and her interviews had proved futile. It was time to face facts, there was simply no case to be answered for, and she had found no sufficient proof to implicate CSI Duquesne or Lieutenant Caine in doing anything untoward. From a personal perspective, she would probably have considered some of their choices unwise but they had not committed any kind of error that could lead to disciplinary action.

As Sargent Hutchings had echoed, if there were indeed a personal relationship between the CSI and her superior it was not a matter that she herself could pass judgement on. She would write her suspicions up in her report though; she'd heard many rumours around the Department about the two of them and their living arrangements.

Part of her wanted to find something incriminating on them, she knew it was jealousy she felt when she saw the Crime Lab team and the close bond its members shared. Internal Affairs was not the type of department where people made friends easily and many of her fellow officers chose to keep to themselves, the only time many of them came in contact with each other was at the weekly staff meetings that were held so that pertinent information could be pooled, it was all business and no time for pleasantries.

How many times had she left her desk at the end of another long shift downhearted and depressed? Police officers were rude to her on a daily basis, it came as part of the job yet it didn't make their words or actions towards her hurt any less. There were days when she would have loved nothing more than to unwind after a hard shift with a glass of wine and the good company of a trusted colleague, something that she had been constantly deprived of for years now. Was her isolation causing her to become bitter and twisted?

It was with a small sense of satisfaction then, that she had managed to cause a few waves to crash over the family unit of the Crime Lab. Her questions had been harsh and designed to cause a rift between the team and it seemed as if she had managed to achieve her objective to some point. She'd had her ear to the ground and had heard that there had been quiet rumblings of discontent within the team that she'd been investigating. Gone were the smug smiles from the faces of the officers she interviewed as they were replaced with scowls and downright hostility. The harsh answers that she had received from some of her questions led her to believe that not all was well with the team, hence her intention to keep the Crime Lab firmly in her sights.

As she sat typing up her report, a melancholy feeling washed over her. Perhaps it was time to accept the olive branch that Ryan had been trying to hold out to her. She had a sense that something had been bothering her old academy buddy and had ached to ask him what was troubling him. They were both proud people though and his cruel words to her had stung, how dare he lecture her about loyalty?

Where was he when she became singled out for what she perceived as only doing her job?

Nobody wanted to be associated with a grass, friendships cultivated through the training academy be damned. To be ostracised from your colleagues when you had done nothing wrong was a damn bitter pill to swallow. She could sense that Ryan was hurting too but then so had she, was it wrong that she wanted someone else to know how it felt to be hurt too?

Her attention was diverted from her computer screen as her phone vibrated loudly on her desk, not a text message this time but a call, it seemed as if Ryan was taking more direct action now. She wanted to ignore it, her mind screamed at her to do so, yet her need to see a friendly and understanding face won out in the end as she picked it up and answered the call.

"Hil, it's Ryan. We need to talk."

* * *

It had been at least three hours since Horatio's meeting with Internal Affairs and she had seen no trace of him since that time, she'd tried ringing him but he had continued to ignore her. Well, enough was enough, she thought to herself as she stalked through the labs in search of him aware that their shift had finished barely ten minutes ago.

She looked in each area in turn and finally found herself in the locker room; she caught his red hair as he walked out of the bathroom, fiddling with the support brace on his left arm. Her unexpected presence in the room made him jump.

"Calleigh," he finally looked up at her as he regained his composure, his voice even and devoid of emotion.

She flinched at the tone of his voice and was left in no doubt that he was still mad with her. "Horatio, I've been looking for you everywhere. Why didn't you answer your phone?" she asked, much firmer than she had originally intended.

"I've been busy…..I needed time to think," he replied as he glanced at her only briefly, playing his cards close to his chest.

His dismissal of her hurt but she knew it was no less than she deserved, her only hope was that he would eventually understand that she had done it for the right reasons. "I just thought you should know that IAB have dropped the investigation against us."

"Good," he replied succinctly.

"I got a call from the Chief though; he wants to meet with the both of us tomorrow morning. Is that ok?"

"He wants to see us together?"

"Yes, apparently there is a matter that he needs to discuss with both of us."

Neither of them were blind or naïve, it was obvious that Sargent Craig had noted her suspicions about their relationship in her report, a report that had been placed straight in the hands of the Department Chief, the man would want answers to certain questions that neither of them would find comfortable answering.

"I think perhaps we need to talk first," Calleigh suggested as her lover refused to look at her.

"Indeed we do," he replied cryptically as he looked up at her briefly, still using that cold tone of voice.

"Horatio, please don't be like this. I know I hurt you and I'm sorry, can we just go home and talk this over?"

He walked towards her, taking her gently by the arms and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Later, Sweetheart. I have something I need to do first."

"Where are you going?" she asked as she watched him walk towards the door.

"There are some things at my house…..I need to collect them."

"You're coming home though, right?" she asked uncertainly as the panic began to set in. Was he that mad with her that he didn't even want to be in the same house as her anymore?

He smiled sadly and looked at her briefly. "I am."

Opening the door to his house in South Beach, he had to admit that he'd missed the place. Not that there was anything wrong with Calleigh's home, it just felt as if he were a guest there sometimes and not a permanent resident. She and Kyle had brought many of his clothes and personal items to her house shortly before he'd been released from hospital but there were some things that he just missed having around, sometimes a man just needed his own space, a kingdom that he could call his own.

It seemed silly to keep paying the bills for a home that he no longer lived in, yet he was reluctant to rent it to anyone else. He was an intensely private man, his house was stamped with his own unique mark and he didn't feel particularly inclined to just offer it up to anyone. His team had been here, he was aware of that. They had visited when his home had been a crime scene, he'd seen the photos that had been taken of the carnage that the Malucci's had wreaked but had been spared seeing the brutal evidence first hand. The clean-up crew had done a good job, had he not known about the incident that occurred he would likely never have guessed that anything untoward had happened here at all.

Another reason that he had kept the house was due to his uncertainty over his relationship with Calleigh. His period of convalescence had been hard on all concerned and there were times during those dark days when he wondered whether she allowed him to stay out of a sense of pity. He'd been unable to function like any other healthy male and had last night not happened he feared that he might not have been able to have any kind of relationship with Calleigh at all.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 4 weeks ago:**

"Come on, Horatio," Calleigh said firmly as she walked into the bedroom that they had fallen into sharing since his release from hospital, walking towards the window and pulling the blinds up.

She was rewarded with a fierce scowl from the slumbering man as he rubbed at his face with his good hand and squinted at the brightness of the room which momentarily caused pain to his still-sensitive eyes. "What time is it?" he asked with a groan.

"It's time to get up," she replied as she pulled back the thin cotton sheet that covered him and held out a hand to help him up.

"I'm tired," he responded grumpily as he closed his eyes, hoping that Calleigh would leave him alone.

It was hardly lying when he told her he was tired, the nightmares had certainly become more horrific since Kyle had left three days ago. He'd woken countless times during the night, shivering and shaking as his beautiful guardian angel tried to soothe him back into some sort of restful sleep.

The nights of little rest took their toll on him and he'd spent most of the last few days staying in bed, trying to regain a little of the lost sleep but to no avail. He certainly wasn't hungry either, his fear for his son's safety had caused him to lose his appetite completely and even when Calleigh had forced him to eat something he soon felt nauseous afterwards.

He was physically exhausted and emotionally drained, why couldn't she just leave him to wallow in his own misery?

"I don't care; you're getting out of this Goddamn bed today even if I have to drag you from it. Besides, I have to take you to your hospital appointment this morning."

He looked at her blankly; his mind had solely been focused on thoughts of Kyle and his safety now that he was out of arm's reach.

"They're taking the cast off today," she said patiently as she pointed down to his broken arm.

He took hold of her hand and allowed her to help raise him from the bed, "What time?" he asked as he scratched the back of his head and winced when it came in contact with the stitches that were still in place from his previous injury.

"A couple of hours…Grab a shower and I'll make you breakfast."

Thirty minutes later, Horatio made his way into the kitchen and smiled his thanks at Calleigh for the large mug of coffee she had placed at the table for him but frowned when he saw the pile of toast she had also put down.

"Calleigh, I'm not hungry…."

She cut him off. "I don't care, you've hardly eaten for days. Alexx will have my hide if we go in there and you faint on her."

He looked affronted at her remark but chose to keep his mouth shut and acquiesce to her demands. "I haven't…nor will I ever faint, Calleigh," he mumbled quietly as he nibbled at the toast in front of him.

"Shut up and eat," she replied with a teasing smile, feeling a small sense of hope that he had made the effort to engage in some kind of conversation, something that he hadn't done since Kyle's return to his unit.

The days had been long and the nights harrowing as Horatio battled the demons in his mind. Both of them knew that his fear for Kyle's safety was irrational but she could understand why he felt that way after learning what the cruel and sadistic Malucci's had made him believe.

Horatio was still weak and vulnerable and more than a little emotionally needy, without his physical strength to hide behind it made it all the more obvious that he was struggling to come to terms with what had happened to him, his emotional reactions far more extreme than any of those around him were used to.

She could feel his nervousness as they sat waiting in a private room at the hospital; Alexx had obviously left strict instructions for her staff to ensure the privacy and dignity of one of her most beloved patients. The sunglasses were still a permanent fixture on his gaunt and drawn face, still not used to the fierce midday Miami sunshine. They also served to hide the skittish way his eyes shot to every corner of the room as he heard the every-day clanging and banging of hospital life around him.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" a warm caramel voice purred as she walked up to her reluctant patient and gave him a gentle peck on the cheek.

Horatio stood to greet his friend and gave her as firm an embrace as his battered body would allow.

"How you doing, Sugar?" she asked as she looked him up and down.

"Getting there," he replied as he gave Calleigh a brief glance. "Can I get this thing off now?" he said as he pointed to the cumbersome cast on his left arm.

"Once we've done some x-rays….if I'm happy with how it's looking we'll take it off and start your physical rehabilitation."

He balked at the idea of having some well-meaning physio cajoling him into doing repetitive exercise all the while patronising him with their jolly and upbeat attitude. "I don't need that, Alexx."

"Don't frown at me, Horatio," she chided with a little more intensity than she had intended. "You'll be lucky if you can even move that arm at all after what happened to you."

She couldn't fail to notice the dark look that crossed his face and suddenly felt guilty for snapping at him.

After consulting with an orthopaedic specialist, Alexx finally agreed to remove the cast from her dear friend's arm, smiling as he winced slightly as the final piece of plaster was removed and he had his first good look at the countless hours of surgery that had gone into fixing his arm.

"The swelling and redness will go down in time, I'd say it's looking pretty good, all things considering."

He gave her a humourless look, "When can I start using it again?" he asked impatiently.

"Not for a while yet, Sugar. The x-rays showed that the bones have healed well around the plates but we need to work on building the muscle strength up again. I'm gonna give you some exercises to do before your first physical therapy session next week."

He gave her another sour look and grumbled under his breath, hating the fact that he would still be reliant on other people to a certain extent. He gave her a fake smile as she handed him a printed sheet of instructions and a small rubber ball.

"Squeeze that throughout the day, working your way up to five minutes at a time," she instructed him as she watched him take the innocent-looking object.

"Only five minutes?" he asked arrogantly as he began the process of closing his fist around the soft and yielding rubber only to find himself unable to. He was rewarded for his cockiness with an arched eyebrow from Alexx who was satisfied that she had made her point.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, he had suffered her good intentions as she systematically checked his injuries over and gave a nod of approval as she finished.

"Step on the scales," she instructed as she pointed to an ancient-looking contraption in the corner of the room.

"I really don't think that's necessary," he began only to find himself silenced by both women giving him a stern look.

Alexx tutted at him as he stepped off the scales, alarmed to find that he weighed less than when he'd been discharged from her care. "You need to eat more."

He shrugged his shoulders, "I've not exactly been hungry," he grumbled as he sat back down in the chair, glad to rest his weakened body for a few moments.

"You have to," she commanded, her tone would brook no insolence from him. "How have you been sleeping?"

He fidgeted awkwardly as he refused to meet her gaze.

"He hasn't," Calleigh answered before he'd really had a chance to draw breath let alone open his mouth to speak.

"I can set you up with an appointment with one of my colleagues…."

"No."

"Please, Horatio. Just think about it."

"I'm fine; I don't need to talk to anyone." His voice was firm as he directed his attention to Calleigh. "Unless there's anything else, Alexx, I'd like to go home now. Would you mind, Calleigh?"

He bolted from the chair and made it to the door in as quick a fashion as he could, cursing himself as he stumbled slightly in his haste. The two women shared a look as Calleigh shrugged her shoulders and followed him down the hall.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

He hadn't realised that he'd got lost in his thoughts until an insistent knocking at the front door brought him back to his senses. He walked into the hallway expecting Calleigh to be waiting on the other side, suddenly his paranoia set in as his subconscious barked at him that it might be an associate of the Malucci's sent to finish him off.

He disregarded that thought as soon as it entered his head, yet he couldn't discount the fact that it might be another person who had less than honourable intentions in coming to visit him. The taunting he'd received from the gang members outside Jesus Fernandez house was still fresh in his mind. Word had got out that perhaps he wasn't the man he used to be, the man that most criminals in Miami feared.

He instinctively reached his hand to his right hip and was thankful that he had the presence of mind to still carry his gun even though he was not active in the field. He popped the leather holster and silently drew his weapon as he inched closer to the door. His breath was coming in short gasps and he willed himself to get a grip as his hand shook slightly. Opening the door gradually with his left hand and using the bulky wooden frame as a shield he poked his head round slowly, gripping his gun tighter in his right hand. He opened the door fully and was momentarily floored by who was standing on the other side.


	48. Chapter 48

"How did you find me?" were the first words that fell from his mouth as he stood gawping at his visitor.

"You weren't exactly hard to find," she replied with a stony expression on her face. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Taking a deep breath his stood back and allowed her to enter, unsure of whether she would hug him or hit him.

"Nice place you've got here," she said accusingly as she eyed the hallway up and down.

"It's nothing much," he replied quietly as he tried to regain some sort of composure as he holstered his weapon.

Her eyes caught his movements. "Were you expecting someone else?"

He ignored the comment and ushered her through into the kitchen. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"You got any wine?" she asked as her eyes travelled around the room, taking in every item and piece of furniture as if that would give her a better understanding of the man she used to know.

He shook his head, "All I have is coffee….no milk."

"How the hell do you get by?" she asked as she frowned at his paltry attempt at hospitality.

"I haven't lived here for a while…..I'd just come by to collect some things."

She stared at him for a moment or two before finally accepting the offer of a coffee, watching him as he made his way around the kitchen skilfully, admiring his pert rear end as he did so.

"You look good…..for a dead man," she finally spoke as he placed the mug down in front of her, freezing momentarily as her words registered.

"About that…I'm sorry. If there was any other way…."

"You're sorry?" she shouted as her anger broke through the surface of her calm exterior. "Do you have any idea what I went through…..how I felt when they found your body? I thought you were dead…..I thought you'd betrayed me….betrayed all of us."

"I'm sorry," he repeated quietly as he sat on a chair his head bowed.

"Not good enough!" she yelled as she rose to her feet. "How could you? How could you have done that to us…..to me?"

He made his way over to her, holding his arms out in supplication. "I know I can never make it right….what I did…I did it to protect you," he pleaded with her.

The speed with which she moved caught him by surprise as she slapped him viciously around the face; a hit that he knew was justified. He had left them all behind, he'd run away from his past and left them only with the bitterness and sorrow that had been left in his wake.

"I hate you!" she screamed as he caught her flailing arm before it could make contact with his cheek again, a cheek that was still stinging from her last attempt at hitting him. Balling her hands into fists she began thumping at his chest as he pulled her closer, his body absorbing the blows as they began to lessen in their ferocity as her anger dissolved. "I hate you," she sobbed quietly as he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to his body, kissing the top of her head tenderly as her fury turned to sorrow.

She felt herself melt into his warm embrace, feeling emotions from long ago begin to rise to the surface once more. He'd held her like this so many times before, he'd been there each time she'd gotten so upset that she'd lashed out at him and said something cruel. He'd held her as she raged at him and everything that was wrong in her world, held her as she hit out at him in frustration. And he had always been there, offering his loving embrace; it was then that she felt his strength and the sense that he would protect her no matter what.

But he'd left her, left her behind in a cruel world to face the fact that he was dead and would never be coming back. When Andy had told her of his death she had faced it with her usual pragmatism, that was until he had left her apartment, only when the door closed behind him did she break down in tears as the realisation that she would never see him again hit home.

Perhaps in some small piece of her heart she held on to the hope that they would be reunited, even when she had married Danny a part of her still longed for the man she had chosen to leave, a choice that had haunted her from time to time. It had been a thorny subject between her and her husband, the father of her two children, resentment began to build on Danny's part that he would never be able to fill the void that had been left by her ex-husband, a void that grew exponentially when news of his murder had surfaced.

It wasn't until he had vanished from her life completely that she realised just how much she missed him. Even after he had moved out and she'd handed him the divorce papers she knew that she still had a hold over him, that all she would have to do was click her fingers and bat her eyelids at him and he would come running back to her arms. He hadn't wanted the marriage to end, he'd made that more than clear, and she felt empowered by the control she could exert over him, picking him up and then dropping him again when she felt like it.

Then something changed between them, not long after he had been viciously attacked outside his apartment he had begun to grow distant towards her. No longer did he come running when she called; he appeared distracted and distrustful of others and their intentions. _Get on with it, _she had thought at the time, her ego wounded that he would no longer fall over himself to please her. Had she thought of someone other than herself she would have realised that something was very wrong with her old lover.

She had chosen to ignore the warning signs, even when she found him passed out from an overdose of pain medication she had allowed him to push her away. Gone was the carefree and happy-go-lucky John, he'd been replaced by a skittish and paranoid loner who no longer took care of himself or the way he looked. His appearance had changed drastically that last time she saw him, the guilt of letting him push her away so easily still ate at her to this day.

She remembered the sense of shock she felt when news broke of his arrest; the idea that her ex could be capable of doing such a thing had floored her. John was as honest as they came, a second generation cop who was devoted to his job and the badge that he wore. He'd sacrificed his marriage for it, for God's sake. There was no reasonable explanation as to why he would do such a thing.

She'd tried for a while to visit his apartment, hoping to talk sense into him, but it became apparent that he had moved away and didn't want to be found. Her willingness to reach out dissipated as she found herself getting closer to Danny; soon her thoughts were filled with marriage and babies as she allowed her paediatrician fiancé to shower her with attention and gifts.

The news of his death came as a shock, it was only then that she realised that if she had just reached out to him when he needed her that she might have been able to prevent his downward slide into the criminal underworld that had ultimately taken his life. The turnout for the service had been pathetic, only she and Robin, plus John's former lieutenant had turned up as he was buried in a cheap and cheerful grave. There were no mourners at his service, only disappointed loved ones, disheartened that a man that they thought they'd known so well could be capable of such things.

She looked up into the worn face of her ex-husband, seeing for the first time the effect his betrayal had on his own body. His youthful features were replaced by lines and sunken eyes as he looked at her with those achingly blue eyes that she had always adored. Andy had told her the news that John was still alive and yet she refused to believe it until she had seen him with her own two eyes.

He cut a sorry figure; his young and athletic body had been replaced with a scarred and frail skeleton of a man, his face gaunt and pale. He wasn't much older than she was yet time had taken its toll in him much more than it had her.

"What did they do to you, Johnny?" she asked sadly as she pulled back to get a better look at his face.

"It doesn't matter, it's over now."

"Tell me….I want to know," she pleaded as she cupped the side of his face with her hand.

He closed her eyes as he felt her tender touch, stirring up memories from a time long ago. "Please….don't," he implored her as he reached up and pulled the hand away.

She would not be denied; she broke free from his embrace and placed her hands on his chest, feeling the silky feeling of his shirt underneath her palms. She reached out and began undoing the buttons, wanting to get a better look at what those monsters had done to him.

He wanted to stop her yet he felt himself powerless to, she still had a hold over him no matter how hard he tried to deny it or tell himself otherwise. He didn't want her to see him like this; his breath came in short gasps as he felt her hands move further down his shirt until she pulled the ends free. He closed his eyes as he heard her gasp, not wanting to see the look of revulsion on her face.

His heart beat wildly as she gently removed the shirt from his body, he could hear her drop it carelessly on the table behind her as her shaky hands reached out to touch the marks on his body, the permanent reminders that the Malucci's had succeeded in taking their pound of flesh from him. His chest was heaving as he felt her fingertips trace the lines and scars, his body trembling beneath her touch as her hands travelled to every exposed portion of him.

"Oh my God," she whispered as her hands shook. The white lines that dotted his upper body were everywhere she looked, along his chest and abdomen and travelled down the length of his arms. He stood stock still as she walked behind him and saw the hideous reminders that he had been beaten, cut and burnt by his savage captors. He had borne the brunt of the anger and evil and he had done it to protect her….to protect all of them.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed as she embraced him from behind, kissing tenderly at a number of deep scars on his right shoulder as she lay her head on his back, both of their minds heading back to a time that seemed so very long ago.

* * *

**Flashback. Mexico 1991:**

It had certainly turned out to be the kind of holiday destination that had been described in the travel brochure. Mexico had provided sun, sand, sex and Sangria in abundance for the loved-up couple.

From the moment they had touched down in Acapulco they had given in to the hedonism that an all-inclusive holiday provided. It didn't matter that the honeymoon had cost him an arm and a leg; it was worth it to see the look of pure joy on his wife's face.

_My wife, _he repeated to himself with a stupid grin. He had done it; he had married the woman that he'd fallen head over heels in love with. He couldn't really remember much of the wedding, only the memory of his beautiful wife waking up beside him the next morning completely naked, and their celebrations continued with abandon as they once again gave into their passion and desire for each other.

They had spent their first few days either lounging in bed or by the pool, he'd taken great pleasure in watching her lithe body enter and exit the pool as her bikini hugged her womanly curves in all the right places. He rubbed sun cream into her smooth skin when asked and joined her in the shower after each swim as he helped to wash the chlorine off of her body in his own unique way.

If Lori was a drug, he knew he was addicted. She was insatiable but then again, so was he. They were both young and in love and definitely in the midst of their honeymoon period. Nothing was out of bounds or too risky for them as they allowed their passion and a little too much alcohol to cloud their judgement.

He'd taken advantage of the massage therapies on offer whilst Lori had taken another dip in the pool and was delighted when she appeared more than a little jealous that another woman had got her hands on her man. It had led to a playful tiff as she insisted that she would be the only woman allowed to massage him. And massage him she did…in some very interesting places.

Days spent enjoying the sun and sand gave way to nights of good conversation, good food and even better company, made all the better by knowing how they would end each and every night in their luxury holiday apartment.

Their romantic break had ended far too soon as far as either of them were concerned, their hearts heavy with the realisation that they would have to fly back to New York the next morning. They had made the most of their last night of seclusion, away from the prying eyes of their friends and family, taking their time to explore and pleasure each other in the way that only they could.

He had left her in the shower a few moments before, giving her time to regain her equilibrium after providing her with another mind-blowing orgasm, something that he had become so very good at. She found him standing by the sliding glass doors as he sipped champagne from a glass flute, wearing nothing but a white towel as it hugged his thin hips seductively.

Walking up behind him she wrapped her arms around his chest and kissed his shoulder tenderly before resting her head against his still wet back, feeling the water cascade down from his damp hair onto her own head.

"Promise me, Johnny. Promise me we'll stay like this forever.

He answered her by picking up one of her hands and raising it to his lips, planting a gentle yet moist peck on her warm flesh. "I promise."

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

His shock at hearing the front door open left him frozen in place, he hadn't had time to move before she came bounding into the kitchen with that worried frown on her face. Her mouth opened to call out to him until her eyes fell on the compromising clinch he'd been caught in.

Her mouth opened in the shape of an 'O' as she struggled to comprehend the image that greeted her. Her surprise soon turned to anger as she gave him a withering look before turning around and making her way hastily back the way she had come.

He broke free of Lori's embrace as he raced after her, not caring that he was shirtless as he ran to catch her up. "Calleigh, wait!" he called out to her but it was too late, she had made it to her car and sped away, leaving him in her wake.


	49. Chapter 49

He grabbed his shirt from the table roughly, fumbling to do the buttons up in his haste to catch up with Calleigh, desperate to make her see that she'd got it all wrong, horribly wrong.

"Where are you going?" Lori asked as she watched him tuck his shirt back into his pants.

"You need to leave," he told her without looking up.

"Who was that?"

"It doesn't matter who it was, you need to leave. I have to go," he pointed towards the hallway as he patted his pockets, checking for his keys to Calleigh's house.

She felt disappointment stab at her heart at the harsh way he dismissed her questions, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen she scribbled something down and passed it to him. "I'm staying at the Hyperion. Call me, John…we need to talk."

He took the proffered piece of paper with a nod and watched her leave, the gentleman in him refusing to leave until she was safely in her rental car and back on the road. He made his way to his own car with no idea how he would make things right with Calleigh.

He had been tempted to knock when he arrived at her front door, yet he knew it would be pointless, she would refuse to answer the door to him based on what she'd just witnessed. He needed the chance to explain it to her, that he had done nothing wrong….that his heart still belonged to her.

Opening the door quietly, he half expected her to jump out at him brandishing a weapon of some kind. The house was hauntingly quiet as he walked through the hallway and popped his head into the kitchen, surprised to find her sitting at the table, nursing a large glass of red wine.

"Calleigh…..sweetheart…."

"Don't," she ground out between her teeth as she refused to look at him.

"Let me explain….."

She took a large gulp of wine before answering. "It's ok, I get it. This is how you get back at me for not being honest with you last night."

"Calleigh, you've got it wrong….."

She looked at him this time; he felt a piece of his heart shatter as he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. "You picked up the first whore you saw and took her back to your place for a quick fumble. I guess there's no stopping you now that you're back on the horse."

She wanted to take the words back as soon as she had said them, they were callous and beyond cruel. It was such a low blow, to use his recent lack of sexual functioning against him in such a way. But she was hurt by what she saw, no matter how innocent it might have seemed. Horatio was hers, no one else's.

He felt the breath leave his body, momentarily numbed by her savage remarks. "You've got it wrong," he repeated, much quieter this time as he let out a deep sigh.

"So your shirt accidentally came off and she tripped and fell on you did she?" She couldn't help herself; the stress of the last few days combined with the wine had served to make her bolder than she had ever been.

"I know her, Calleigh…." He tried to explain.

"Oh, good. Nice to know that you don't take your clothes off for just anyone," she retorted sarcastically.

He made is way over to her quickly, grabbing her almost roughly as he felt his temper fraying. "Damn it, Calleigh. She was my wife!"

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1991:**

The first few days back at work always seemed to drag when you'd just spent a week relaxing in the sun on holiday. Landing back in New York felt like a shock to the system for both of them as the cooler temperatures and the noise and clamour of everyday city life hit them at full force.

It had been great to spend a week not worrying or caring about anyone except themselves and they had made the most of what the luxurious Mexican resort had to offer. She laughed as she remembered the way her husband had neglected to wear any sunscreen on the first day and had ended up getting a nasty case of sunburn, it was lucky that she had been on hand to rub in the cooling after-sun lotion on his sensitive skin afterwards. They had never been able to just leave things as an innocent touch here or there, it always seemed to turn into something much more passionate between the pair of them.

She admired how tanned her arms looked in her sleeveless top as she waited for him to return home, his shift had ended half an hour ago and he had promised that he would come straight home as he had each night this past week. A smirk crossed her face at how badly his fair skin reacted to the ferocious Mexican sun, John was definitely not a man who suited high temperatures, often burning easily and turning a deep shade of red if he stayed out in it too long. Perhaps it was his Irish genes that made him that way; still, it didn't make her love him any less.

Placing her glass of wine down, she turned her head as she saw the front door open, her weary husband standing the other side of it as he grinned at her like a fool.

"Hi, honey. I'm home," he drawled as he threw his suit jacket on the back of a chair and sauntered over to his lovely lady wife, planting an amorous kiss on her lips, licking the wine off of his own as he broke the contact between them.

"That was quick," she teased as she placed her hands flat against his chest and ran them up and down, feeling his muscle twitch beneath her expert touch.

"What can I say; I guess I've got a good reason to make it home early." He raised a playful eyebrow at her as he nuzzled at her neck.

"And what might that be?" she responded as she turned her head to the right, allowing him better access to the smooth skin of her neck as he nipped at it gently.

He stopped what he was doing for a moment and looked at her. "Dinner," he retorted as if it were the most obvious answer. "I think we should skip it and head straight for desert.

He lunged forwards to pick her up and carry her to the bedroom and was only stopped when she took a step back from him. He looked at her in confusion.

"Is that all you ever think about?"

He gave her a wolfish grin. "Not _all _I think about. What's for dinner?" he asked, knowing that his wife had shut him down….for now.

They had sat and ate a pleasant dinner but throughout the meal he got the impression that there was something that Lori wanted to say but couldn't. It was not a wise move to push her on it though, that would likely lead to an argument of epic proportions between them, the only plus side being the make-up sex afterwards. An angry Lori was always a delight to contend with in the bedroom.

_Jesus, you do have sex on the brain! _

After watching her down the last of her wine, he cleared the plates and took them into the small kitchen area of their apartment and began washing the pots and dishes that had accumulated there. Theirs was a relationship based on compromise and sharing, if Lori had gone to the effort of cooking it was only fair that he did his share by taking care of the clearing away.

She admired the way he moved around the kitchen, his hands covered in soap suds. How she wished he would take those hands out of the water and run them over her body. She could imagine the sensation of his damp hands and the small rivulets of warm water that would trickle down her as his touch set her skin on fire.

_Now who's got sex on the brain!_

It was with a sense of disappointment that she watched him finish up in the kitchen, towelling his hands dry as he leant back on the sofa. He pulled her close so that she was lying on top of him as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head.

It felt so safe to be wrapped in his strong arms, she reached a hand out and placed it on one of his forearms as she rubbed her thumb up and down, feeling the weight of the world drift away from her as they lay together, their chests rising and falling in time with each other. It was only by chance that her hand ran over something raw and sensitive that she noticed anything was wrong as he hissed and attempted to move his arm slightly.

Fear got the best of her as she sat up from his embrace and held his arm up to get a closer look, wincing as she saw the sore-looking graze on his left arm. "How did this happen?" she asked as she moved his arm this way and that in an effort to see it better.

He pulled his arm away and rolled the sleeve of his shirt down, waving off her concern. "It's nothing; just a little tumble when we were taking down a suspect. It's no biggie."

"Did you get yourself checked out?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's only a cut, I'm fine. I promise." He gave her one of his most endearing smiles as he tried to convince her that he was ok.

"I don't like it, Johnny," she replied with a frown, visibly relaxing as she lay back against the sofa. "It's too dangerous out there."

"Lori, I can look after myself. You don't need to worry about me."

"But I do, I worry every single day that Andy is going to come knocking on our door one day to tell me you've been killed. I couldn't bear it if that happened."

He wanted to promise her that nothing would happen, that he would be fine, but the truth was that he couldn't guarantee it. Each day that he went out on the streets he knew that he would be taking his life into his own hands. The streets of this city could be mean and cruel; he knew only too well that you could never know which day might be your last. All it took was to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and your life would be over before you knew it.

It was his job though; he had chosen to do it so that others wouldn't have to. He chose to take those risks on a daily basis in order to protect the people he loved as well as the people of the city that he called home. Didn't Lori realise that he felt exactly the same way, each time she chose to go up against some crime don or shady hustler up in court?

She was hardly keeping herself out of harm's way when she deliberately antagonised the criminal underworld. She was a feisty ADA who was used to getting what she wanted, not caring if she pissed the wrong people off along the way. He worried every single day about her, sometimes to the detriment of his own safety on the job. Couldn't she see that this was the job that he had to do, that he was born to do?

"I think you should ask for a transfer…..Staten Island maybe."

"You've got to be kidding me," he replied incredulously. The only cops that worked Staten Island were the ones who were close to retirement age or had pissed off the brass is some major way. To take a transfer to the Island was no more than career suicide.

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life in some cramped little apartment downtown; you think this is the ideal place to bring kids up in?"

"Well, it didn't do me any harm growing up in Queens," he responded as he felt his ire rising within him.

"You can do better, Johnny. You don't want to be a lowly detective all your life, do you?"

Her words hurt him deeply, he might not have come from the same Ivy League privileged background that she did but he had worked his ass off to get where he was. He'd grown up an only child to a single parent for most of his young life, paid his way through community college and then grasped every opportunity that came his way in the NYPD. He'd been one of the youngest officers to make it to detective in the Precinct's history and he'd done it by keeping his head down and working hard.

So what if she was some high-flying lawyer-type with an honours degree behind her, did she think that made her better than him?

He stood up quickly, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry that my working-class roots aren't good enough for you, Lori."

"That's not what I meant," she said as she tried to placate him, realising that she'd offended him inadvertently. "I just mean that I want you to have a career where you're not putting yourself in danger on a daily basis."

She walked towards him slowly, still not sure if he would push her away in anger. Emboldened by the fact that he had not moved she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his chest, hearing the steady thumping of his heart. "I love you, Johnny."

He refused to return her embrace for a number of moments, the two halves of his mind warring with each other as whether to accept her apology or storm off in a rage. The former won out in the end as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. "I know you do."

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"That was Laura?" Calleigh asked as she looked up into the haunted blue eyes of her lover.

He nodded his head as he looked down at her. "Yes, it was."

"What's she doing here?"

He let out a deep sigh as his head dropped. "I have no idea, I didn't even know that she was in Miami…She just turned up out of the blue."

Suddenly she felt terrible, terrible for saying such vicious things to him. She had lashed out in spite, wanting to hurt him as much as she was. Still, it was a confusing situation she had discovered him in. "What were you doing when I walked in?"

His body trembled slightly as he closed his eyes. "She wanted to see…see what they had done to me….I couldn't stop her, Calleigh."

"Why not?"

"Because….."

"Because of what, Horatio? Do you love her?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "She was my wife; I've never stopped loving her."

It wasn't the words she wanted to hear, she wanted him to tell her that Laura meant nothing to him, that she was something that had been consigned to ancient history. After everything she had done for him, how could he still love another woman?

The look on her face spoke volumes as he saw the multitude of emotions flicker across it. Cupping her face gently, he planted a tender kiss on her lips. "I love her….but I'm not in love with her."

She continued to look at him with that same hurt expression on her face.

"I…..love…..you," he told her between kisses, trying to make her see through actions alone that his heart belonged to just one person….her.


	50. Chapter 50

They had somehow found their way into the living room as both of them sat either end of the leather couch, not looking at each other.

Things had seemed so simple no less than twenty-four hours ago, he had finally given in to the years of longing and had shown Calleigh the true depths of his feelings for her, and now here they were, sitting together yet poles apart.

He'd been furious when she'd admitted that she had lied to Sargent Craig, at the time he told her that it was because he felt betrayed, the simple truth of the matter was that he was angry. Angry and disappointed that she had risked everything for him, risked the lab and its reputation as well as her own. It was his job to protect her, to take the risks so that she didn't have to. It hurt his ego and sense of pride that this time she had been the one to go out on a limb to protect him instead.

He'd wanted to punish her, to make her as feel as bad as he did about the whole situation. And so he had been cold and distant towards her, ignoring her repeated attempts to make peace with him. He felt like such a hypocrite, after everything he had put her through recently, how could he even think of taking the moral high ground after treating her so badly?

He certainly hadn't expected Lori to turn up at his house, he had no idea she was even in the state let alone his local neighbourhood. How had she tracked him down and why?

Had she come for her pound of flesh too?

Her reaction to him had been hostile but not unexpected, he'd been vindictive and cruel the last time they had spoken. He'd brushed off her concern and told her to go back to her doctor boyfriend, he had told her that he no longer needed or wanted her in his life. Of course he had needed her, a part of him still loved her deeply and yearned for the day that she would realise what a mistake it had been calling time on their marriage. He pushed her away so that she would not have to see the monster he'd become, disappointed in the man she thought she once knew.

Years of bitterness and suffering had built a wall between them; Lori had moved on with her life, she had settled down with her husband and children, creating the family that he had so desperately wanted for himself with her. The wall grew between them as the years passed, Lori resigned to the fact that her ex-husband was dead and that he'd been no more than a petty crook, he had moved on and built a new life for himself in Miami, fooling himself into believing that he could outrun his past.

There had been times during his convalescence that he'd considered contacting Lori, to reach out and give her his reasons as to why he'd done those things. His road to recovery had been gruelling and had often sapped the little strength that he had. _Tomorrow…..next week….next month, _he would tell himself until thoughts of his first real love made their way to the back of his mind once more.

Perhaps it was his cowardice rearing its ugly head once more; he didn't want to be confronted by the mistakes that he'd made. It was better to let sleeping dogs lie, kicking up the past would only bring more suffering and pain on the people he cared about. The choice had been made for him this time, Lori had taken the initiative and travelled halfway across the county to confront him and he'd had no choice but to face the full force of her wrath.

Their tempestuous relationship had served to teach him that his former wife could be a formidable opponent when she was angry and her reaction to seeing him for the first time in nearly twenty years had shown him that her fiery temper had not cooled any with age.

After her ire had dissipated, she began to soften her stance towards him, reaching out tenderly to the marks that he still bore as she touched them gently. He sensed her pity as she took in his broken and beaten body, but more than that he felt the loving touch of a woman that he'd cared about so deeply. He needed to feel the sensation of her hands on his flesh, it took him back to a place that seemed a lifetime ago, a time when things seemed simpler…easier.

She had experienced so many emotions today, it had left her angry and confused, made all the worse by knowing what a fantastic evening they'd had the day before. It finally seemed as if Horatio was getting his life back on track, he'd made significant steps forwards in opening up to her and they had shared such a tender and intimate moment in the bedroom. Things were starting to look up, that was until she'd blindsided him by taking the initiative and doing whatever it took to save his career.

Couldn't he see the reasons why she had done it?

She'd risked everything for him and all because she loved him. The way he had reacted had startled her, she'd never before seen him look so angry or disappointed in her. It was only when the shock lessened that she realised how it must have looked to him. Horatio was a man of pride and principles and she'd thrown everything that he believed in away without giving it a second thought.

He'd stormed out on her like a petulant child, something that she'd become accustomed to recently. No matter the situation, his first impulse was to take himself away and retreat in on himself, licking his wounds in private, keeping away from the prying eyes of the world. Sometimes his ego and pride could be so damaging that he would refuse to let anyone see just how much he was hurting and how vulnerable he truly was.

She had sensed that he'd come to apologise and sort out their differences judging by the look on his face when he knocked on the office door. Whatever he'd been about to say had gone out of the window as he'd found himself beaten at his own game once more. It was bad enough that she'd lied to protect him; he didn't need a babysitter to help him with his IAB interview.

In hindsight, it was probably the wrong thing to do, she knew that he would think that she didn't trust him or that he was incapable of taking care of himself. He'd spent too long being vulnerable and weak and her actions, however well-intentioned, had brought those dark feelings back to the fore with some ferocity.

Perhaps with time he would see that she was less concerned with his pride and more interested in saving what was left of his career. Would he ever see what an impossible position she had been placed in, stuck between a rock and a hard place?

She was damned either way, it didn't matter the choice that she'd made the end result would be the same, heartache and pain.

It had stung, the frigid way that he spoke to her in the office, the tone that he usually reserved for people he had a great dislike for. Gone was the warm and gentle man she loved, he'd been replaced with a cold and unfeeling one as he warned her that their issues were still unresolved. He'd spoken to her in that threatening tone that things were not over between them and the menace in his voice promised that there would be a great deal of fallout to come from her actions.

Her hurt had been the main cause for her to go after him. She'd sat at home alone for hours, concerned that he had not returned to her. Curiosity got the better of her even though the voice in her head warned her to leave him alone and to give him his space.

She'd arrived at his house to see two cars parked in the driveway and immediately her senses heightened to any impending danger. It was common knowledge that Horatio had been badly injured by his captors and the worrying thought crossed her mind that another criminal organisation would see it as their opportunity to get rid of the pesky Lieutenant once and for all.

They were far enough along in their relationship that she no longer felt the need to knock before entering. Pulling out the key that he'd given her, she found it unnecessary as the handle turned easily and allowed her access to his hallway.

There was very little in the way of noise when she entered the house, only the sounds of someone breathing deeply, fear began to gnaw at her again, frowning as she walked into the kitchen.

It would have been kinder if her eyes were deceiving her, but it was not to be. She had walked in on him half-naked with another woman's arms around his waist. All she could see was the hurt and betrayal, unable to rationalise the scene before her. Who was she and why had he done it, to get back at her?

That, and a hundred more questions, whizzed through her mind as she turned away and ran back towards her car, not giving Horatio the chance of explaining himself. Her subconscious screamed at her on the way home that he had cheated on her, that there was no rational explanation for what he'd done. Having an alcoholic father and a string of failed relationships behind her had hardly given her the best frame of reference when it came to the opposite sex.

Her first thought had been that he'd cheated on her and done it to spite her; it was a thought that her subconscious had taken and run with, blocking out any attempts for her mind to consider otherwise. Her brain had refused to believe that there was any justification for what her eyes had just seen.

When he returned to her home she had given him a piece of her mind, hurling abuse at him as he tried to placate her and make her see reason. Sometimes she hated the fact that she had inherited her mother's strong sense of self, it allowed her temper to get the better of her at times and she had hit out at him, inflicting deep and damaging emotional wounds on him.

They were both strong and intensely stubborn people, maybe it was what made them work so well together, but there were times when it could cause both of them to act in a less than adult manner, it would cause them to lash out and punish the person closest to them. They both possessed the power to hurt the other deeply, to the point that neither of them really understood the affect they had on the other.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 3 weeks ago:**

He'd been silent since she'd picked him up from the waiting area at the hospital after another gruelling session of physiotherapy.

"How'd it go?" she asked brightly as she walked to the exit with him.

"The usual," he replied succinctly, tired and aching after another hour of a perky young blonde pushing and pulling at his weary limbs.

"You fancy going out to lunch?" She was grasping at straws, trying anything she could think of to pull him out of his latest funk.

Since Kyle had returned to his unit, Horatio had become surlier than usual, she'd hoped the visit to Alexx to remove the cast from his arm would have lifted his spirits a little, now he had started on a course of physical therapy it appeared to have underlined just how weak and frail he really was.

His blustering to Alexx that he was fine and that he had no need for therapy was nothing more than a ruse as he had been confronted with his own shortcomings again and it had left him in a permanently foul mood.

His mood infected all of those who he'd come into contact with, Andy had lost his temper with the infuriatingly obstinate redhead on more than one occasion in the last week, shouting at Horatio to pull his head out from his backside and concentrate on getting back on his feet.

All of their words fell on deaf ears; Horatio had convinced himself that he was old and infirm and that nothing would change his thinking on it. He refused to listen to anything they had said to lift his spirits as time and again he lost his temper and tried to push them away.

"I'm not really hungry, Calleigh," he replied quietly as he slipped his sunglasses back on when they stepped outside into the vivid Miami sunshine, wincing as his pupils dilated and then shrank in an effort to tolerate the brightness.

"Fine, we'll go home then," her sullen tone seemed to have little effect on him as he got in the passenger side of the vehicle and patiently waited for her to join him.

The trip was silent and uncomfortable, turning off the engine she turned to look at him. "I've had about as much of this as I can take."

He turned his head to look at her as he began to formulate another churlish remark in his head. "I'm sorry," he said after a pause.

"I don't want you to be sorry; I want you to be Horatio!" There, she'd said it as her anger got the better of her, again.

"I'm trying….." he began as he beseeched her.

"Well try harder!"

Her sudden outburst stunned both of them as they sat staring at each other. She reached out a trembling hand to him some moments later as she cupped his face and brought it nearer to hers. She could hear his breathing increase as her lips reached out to his and made contact, kissing him tenderly.

He felt wonderful; the soft feeling of his lips on hers sent shudders down her spine. Encouraged by the fact that he had not pulled away she deepened the kiss as her tongue begged for entry to his mouth as his lips parted slightly. His hands found their way to her hips as he tried to pull her closer, revelling in the feeling of their mouths meeting for the first time.

He'd often imagined what it would feel like to kiss her, to feel her body writhe under his touch. This was better than he'd ever imagined as her tongue began duelling with his, her hands made their way from his face and ran through his hair, he felt the stirring deep inside, the years that he had stood back at a distance and watched her from afar, longing to be the man who would take her in his arms and make her happy, the man who would treat her like the precious jewel that she was.

Her slender fingers found the scar on the back of his head; one touch was all it took for reality to come crashing back down around him. Suddenly, he was confronted by the memories and images of his abuse at the hands of his torturers, his mind confusing her touch with theirs. The complex emotions threatened to overwhelm him as he broke away suddenly, his right hand grasping blindly for the door handle as he tried to escape.

"I'm sorry," he said in a panicked whisper, "I can't do this."

There was no time to react, before she'd even opened her door he had gone, making his way to the house as quickly as he could and hiding himself away, his stock response when things began to get too much.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

How could two people who had shared so much suddenly seem like strangers?

He knew he would have to make the first move; this whole sorry situation was his doing after all. "I'm sorry, Calleigh," he said quietly as he leant forward his elbows resting on his knees.

_Typical Horatio, always being the bigger man…the better person._

"No, it's my fault. I should never have kept those things from you, I know I hurt you."

He craned his neck to regard her, giving her a brief smile as their eyes met. "I hardly think that I'm in a position to be keeping score about secrets am I?"

It was clear by the tone of his voice that his words were meant to be playful, giving her a clear indication that his anger towards her was waning.

"I did it because I care about you, Horatio…I love you."

He scooted towards her, lifting his arm and placing it around her shoulders as he pulled her towards him, resting his chin on her head. "I know, Sweetheart. I just hate the thought of you risking everything for me. I should be protecting you, not the other way round."

She pulled away and sat up straighter, really looking at him for the first time that day. "Why do you always feel like you're not worth fighting for?"

He took a deep breath. "I guess it's just years of practice….you get stuck in your ways as you get older. I'm not used to having anyone look out for me…..I guess I'm having a hard time breaking the habit."

"I won't ever let you give up, you know that?"

It warmed his heart to hear the sincerity in her voice. "I do, Sweetheart….I do."

He felt the overwhelming urge to explain the unfortunate incident with Lori earlier. "What you saw…..it's not what it looked like. I would never do anything to hurt you….please believe me."

It was impossible not to hear the slight cracking in his voice when he spoke, here was a man who was so used to being emotionally distant with those around him, and now he was baring his soul to her, allowing her to see the frightened and emotionally vulnerable man underneath. It wasn't something that he did lightly, he didn't give himself up easily to others in that way, a priceless gift had been bestowed upon her and she was conscious of the need not to throw it away over some tiny misunderstanding.

"I know…the things I said to you afterwards…..I didn't mean any of them."

He leant over and pressed a loving kiss on her temple. "I know...you were hurt and angry. I understand."

But how could he?

How could he be so understanding of her faults and weaknesses yet not his own?

He had the heart and compassion to forgive anyone their trespasses against him yet set himself a bar so high that it was unachievable. He simply would not or could not find it within to forgive himself for what he considered his own mistakes. What had driven him to have such a skewed view of himself?

"We have a meeting with the Chief tomorrow," she said quietly as he placed his arm around her once more, feeling the reassuring presence of his strong grip. "What are we going to tell him?"

"How do you mean?"

"What are we? I mean are we a couple…..is this something we both want?"

He lifted her chin with his free hand as he turned her head gently to look at her, those penetrating blue eyes of his boring into her very soul as he regarded her. "Is this what you want?"


	51. Chapter 51

"Oh my, that can't be good."

Walter gave his colleague a puzzled look as he poked his head around the break room door to get a better view of what had held Natalia's attention for the last few minutes. "Who's that?" he asked as he ripped off a piece of his apple Danish and popped it into his mouth.

"That's Sargent Murray, he's the Chief's personal aide," she replied as she pulled Walter quickly back in the room, having spotted only moments earlier Calleigh turning to look over her shoulder in the direction of the break room.

"Why are H and Calleigh with him?"

She rolled her eyes at Walter's seeming naivety. "Well, he wants to speak to them….obviously."

"You reckon it's got anything to do with that IAB officer who's been hanging around here the last few days?"

"I don't doubt it. God knows what that little witch put in her report."

"You think she found something?" Walter asked as he took a sip from his can of coke.

Her face fell at his words, how Walter could consider, even for a minute, that Calleigh or Horatio had done anything untoward. They were seasoned crime scene investigators and honest cops, there was never any doubt in her mind that both of them were above suspicion. Yet she couldn't seem to silence that nagging little voice that spoke to her, things had not been right since the Lieutenant had returned from his enforced sabbatical. Eric and Ryan were at each other's throats and there was an air of distrust that shrouded the lab each day.

Horatio had hardly been seen most days, hidden away in his office or in some dark corner of a little-used lab room somewhere in the recesses of the building. When he had been seen he'd been quiet and evasive, refusing to look her or any of their colleagues in the eye, brushing off their obvious concern for his wellbeing. He certainly hadn't been out in the field for a number of days; it struck her as such an odd thing, for him to stay at the lab whilst the rest of his team attended crime scenes without him.

It had always appeared to her that he had a sixth sense about crimes taking place in his city, more often than not he would be the first officer and CSI on scene, questioning witnesses and giving orders as if it were second nature to him. Of course it was natural to him, he was the head of the Crime Lab and a Lieutenant in the Miami Dade Police Department, leading cases was what he did.

The Horatio that had returned to the lab this past week was certainly not the strong and confident man that she remembered and definitely not the same man who risked his life jumping off a twenty foot high pier with a bullet in his guts to free her from a sinking car. The man who had returned was hesitant and unsure of himself, giving the impression that he had no faith in what he was trying to accomplish by being here.

The man walked and talked like Horatio, yet he was an imposter and certainly not the man she had grown to admire. The light in his eyes and the fire in his belly had been extinguished by what had happened to him. Gone was the will to fight that made him such a formidable opponent to the criminal underworld of this city, there were times over the last few days that she'd wanted to grab him by his suit jacket and shake him, as if that would make him see sense.

This was the man who had taught her never to give up, that even when the road seemed long and hard that there was still something worth fighting for. Would she have ever got away from her abusive husband that second time without knowing that Horatio was in her corner, ready to back her up when needed?

After being uncovered as a mole within the Crime Lab, Horatio had been the one to reach out to her and bring her into the fold, making her feel a part of the team and trusting her when no one else in the building wanted to. He had placed his faith in her, obviously seeing something that he thought was worth nurturing. He'd held out his hand to her and she had took it without a second thought, instinctively knowing that just being around people like Horatio and his team would make her a better person.

Why were he and Calleigh being escorted to the elevator by the Chief's aide, had Sargent Craig found something or had Horatio decided that enough was enough?

She prayed to God that the answer to both questions was no. The latter question gave her pause for thought; Horatio had seemed to carry an air of resigned defeat around him since his return. Was he really going to give up everything and walk away from the facility that he had worked so tirelessly to build over the last fifteen years?

* * *

Ryan sipped at his coffee tiredly as he ran a hand over his haggard features. Hillary had finally agreed to meet with him after days of pestering her and he was secretly glad to have someone to talk to.

This week had been the worst he could remember since joining the Crime Lab, even worse than when Horatio had been abducted and tortured by the Malucci's. At least then they had the hope that they would find their leader before it was too late, there was simply too much going on to believe otherwise. Their focus had to be on tracking the Malucci's down and bringing Horatio back in one piece, they didn't have time for doubts or fears; the only thing that mattered was finding their boss.

Even that first harried week at the hospital had been better than this, they'd rescued Horatio in the nick of time, his fate was in the hands of the Gods and the doctors and nurses that tended to him. As injured as he was, it gave Ryan hope when he sat by Horatio's bed watching his chest rise and fall as the medical staff continued to pump him full of God knows what just to keep him alive.

As the days wore on it became more apparent that the man who had been pulled from the choppy waters of Miami was not the same man who Ryan had grown to admire so much. At first he'd put it down to the medications and the injuries, but as time passed it was becoming startling obvious to him that something was wrong.

Horatio had always been a father-figure to him, taking the young and reckless officer under his wing and guiding him through the pitfalls of his professional life. There were many times when he became jealous of Eric and the relationship that he had with Horatio, there was a deep bond between the two of them, united by family and ultimately tragedy. It was as if Eric wanted to flaunt the fact that Horatio cared for him so deeply, rubbing his face in it at every opportunity. Eric knew he was Horatio's favourite and seemed to take great delight in showing Ryan that he would never be as close to their leader as he was.

Horatio had made a point of rarely calling Ryan by his first name and it was something that he felt hard to accept at times. He would have done anything to prove his worth to the Lieutenant, but his poor choices in his personal and professional life often left him feeling as if he had let the older man down. Horatio had never been a man to reveal much in the way of emotions around his team, always keeping to the periphery of the group, being a part of the team yet keeping himself apart from them.

Horatio's reticence was understandable, he'd been through so much both in New York and Miami that it made him wary and distrustful of opening himself up to further heartache. It was little wonder that he had closed himself off so much; perhaps it was the only way the Lieutenant knew how to survive, to carry on each day carrying such a heavy burden yet telling no one of his suffering.

He had been looking forward to Horatio's return to the lab, Calleigh had been a more than capable replacement but it felt as if there was something missing when their leader was not around. He seemed to have the enviable ability to make the whole team feel focused and that the work they were doing would serve to make their city a safer place to be. Horatio gave the team a purpose and direction, infusing them with his own steely determination never to let the bad guys win.

From the moment Horatio had entered the break room on his first day back, Ryan could sense that something was missing. The man had said all the right words yet they seemed hollow, as if the Lieutenant was merely going through the motions of what he was expected to do. The incident at the warehouse had only served to reinforce his belief that Horatio was far from fit enough to be out in the field.

It had come as a huge shock to witness Horatio freeze, never in all of his time on the team had he ever seen the other man hesitate to take a shot. Horatio was a fine marksman, his bullets always found their target and yet the man had frozen completely as a suspect drew his gun on him. It was only his own quick thinking that had saved them all, he had wounded and disarmed the suspect before Horatio had even managed to break free from whatever memory had caused him to hesitate.

He'd ended up being stuck in an impossible situation, caught between his loyalty to Horatio and his loyalty to the team. It had been pure luck that neither he, Eric or Horatio had been injured in the warehouse, Ryan was experienced enough to know that the next time they might not be so fortunate. Whatever was bothering Horatio was weighing on him so heavily that he was unable to function out in the field; didn't Eric understand that he had to consider the safety of the team and not just the personal feelings of the people around him?

There was never any doubt in his mind that Eric would fight Horatio's corner, the Cuban idolised his superior and would gladly cheat, lie or steal for the older man if it meant protecting him. In all good conscience, Ryan knew that he could not say the same, if Horatio had taught him anything it was that lying and hiding the truth never did anyone any good, it would all come out in the end, one way or another.

And what had he done? He'd slipped into old habits as a way of avoiding what was staring him in the face, Horatio had been the one to guide him back on to the right path when his gambling addiction began to take over his life and affect his professional duties. He'd been given a second chance and had promised his mentor at the time that he would not let him down again. It was a promise that he had managed to keep for a number of years until he suddenly found his support network ripped away from him.

When things got too much and the urge to gamble became more than he could bear he would seek out the advice of his superior. Horatio had always employed an open door policy and was readily available to listen to the problems of others, offering his unwavering support when they did so. The Lieutenant had been able to keep him on the right track for some time now, despite the odd blip when his choice of partner in his personal life turned out to be less than wise. Horatio was always there, no matter what, a constant in his life that he knew he would always be able to rely on.

Now he'd been confronted with the fact that Horatio was no longer there to support him and a part of him wished that the older man had died out at sea. At least it would prevent him from watching the fragile shell of the man he used to know haunting the halls of the Crime Lab like some kind of ghost, forever trapped between worlds. It was painful to watch the demise of a man he considered so strong that in his own eyes he was almost invincible.

Without Horatio's support he felt lost, he had tried to fight it but the need to regain some sort of stability had driven him to seek out underground poker games. He needed a coping mechanism, some kind of escape from the impossible situation he found himself in. Gambling gave him a thrill, made him feel as if he were powerful when everything around him was falling apart and out of his control. At the poker table he was in control of his own destiny, or so he thought.

He'd given Eric the brush off in the locker room, warning the other man to stay out of his business, storming out to the parking lot like a child. He was wary of Eric's intentions, all through their time together on the team the Cuban had blown hot and cold with him, leaving him confused and wary as of the other man's intentions. There had been times that Eric had proved to be a good friend and others when he would cut him down with some kind of caustic remark; it left him feeling as if he never knew where he stood with him. Each time Eric held out a hand in friendship he seemed to snatch it away again only moments later. Was Eric trying to make peace with him or was this another one of his fickle moods?

It didn't really matter either way, sitting in his car outside the rundown motel it occurred to him what it was that he was doing. He felt sick to think that he was sitting outside an illegal poker game throwing away the second chance that Horatio had given him. It hit him suddenly, that to enter that room would be the end of his career, that he would never be able to make things right with Horatio or the team again.

Horatio had warned him that he'd stuck his neck out for him by taking him back and that any further slip ups would mean that his fate would be tied in with that of his erratic young colleague. So what if Horatio wasn't fit enough to be out in the field, his decision on his future should not be in the hands of his reckless young charge. He had faith that Horatio would do whatever it took to get back to where he once was, after all he had been through it didn't make sense for him to give up now.

The Lieutenant had placed faith in him, whether it was warranted or not was beside the point, he owed it to the man to do the right thing. Turning the key in the ignition, he gave one last glance at the motel room before shaking his head and driving away, infused with a new sense of determination that he would not let his superior down again. Things were messed up at the moment, Horatio's head was all over the place whilst all around him lost theirs too, it was not the behaviour that the Lieutenant would have expected or deserved from his team. They needed to be united in their support of him, not fighting between themselves and making careless choices. He hoped that his indiscretion a few days ago would never come to light, that Horatio would never be any the wiser to what he'd done. Somehow he knew that the wily Lieutenant would find out one way or another, but he took heart in the fact that Horatio would most likely forgive him and guide him further back on to the right path.

He'd got so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice the arrival of his old colleague until she had sat down opposite him, ordering a coffee as she did so.

He smiled at her as she made herself comfortable. "Hil, I'm glad you came…..I've been wanting to talk to you…."

* * *

"I'm glad that's over," Calleigh remarked as she blew a long strand of her blonde hair out of her face as she and Horatio stood outside the Chief's office.

"Indeed."

Two hours had never seemed so long as the Chief asked them question after question about the Malucci incident, Calleigh's actions whilst in charge and the awkward subject of their relationship.

"It's given us a lot to think about, hasn't it?" she asked quietly as they made their way back to the elevator that would take them back to the Crime Lab.

"It has."

She let out a small sigh; Horatio often became monosyllabic when he was in a pensive mood. He needed time to brood over the conversation they'd just had with the Chief. He'd opened up to her much more these past few days but she tempered her enthusiasm to bombard him with questions knowing that he needed time to himself to assimilate the information before making his next move.

"You've got another meeting with the therapist today?" she asked as they stood side by side in the elevator as they rode down to the fourth floor.

"I have."

"Do me a favour and talk it over with him, ok?"

He turned to look at her briefly and reached for the hand that was closest to him, giving it a light squeeze before letting go as the elevator chimed. "I will."

She watched him go; making his way silently down the corridor, his shoulders weighed down with the weight of responsibility once more. Her only hope was that in time he would make the right decision.


	52. Chapter 52

"I only came because you wouldn't stop badgering me, Ryan."

He gave her a small smile, not fooled for one minute by her poor attempts to deny that she needed someone to talk to just as much as he did. Hilary had looked so sad the last time they had met and he wished that he could've taken back those harsh words that he had thrown at her. He was hardly in a position to take the moral high ground with her.

_People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones._

"What do you want, Wolfe?" she asked tiredly as she took a sip of the cappuccino that had just been brought to their table.

"I wanted to see if you were ok, I felt bad for talking to you like that."

She refused to be fooled by his attempts at making peace with her, surely there must have been some sort of ulterior motive for him to have reached out to her. "If this is about my report I've already handed it in, you're too late to plead anyone's case now."

"That's not why I wanted to see you," he continued as he tried to make eye contact with her, moving his head in time with hers as she moved.

"Then why? Have you come to tell me what a waste of space I am, that I'm nothing more than a useless bitch?"

He was momentarily taken aback by the bitterness in her voice, reminding him of someone else that he cared deeply about. "No of course not. I care about you Hil…..I always have."

"Well it's a bit late for that. Where were you when the shit hit the fan? I was left hanging out to dry and no one stood up for me, do you have any idea what that feels like?"

He sat quietly watching as her resentment at her current situation burst through the emotional banks that she had so carefully constructed, her animosity towards her lot in life finally finding an outlet.

"Yes I do," he replied quietly after she had finished ranting at him. "I know exactly what it feels like to have everyone turn their back on you. The difference was that I deserved what happened to me….you didn't."

The idea that someone finally understood, after all these years, gave her pause for thought. Everyone she had met since her transfer to Internal Affairs had treated her with hostility and disdain, so much so that she'd become almost immune to their harsh words…..almost.

Why was Ryan reaching out to her and why now?

"What is it that you want, Ryan?"

He reached out a hand and attempted to place it on one of hers only for her to pull it away sharply and hide it under the table. He let out a tired sigh, "I told you, I want to be there for you. You look like you could do with a friend right now."

She gave him a withering look, refusing to be drawn into some childish game that would end up causing her more pain and grief than she currently had to deal with. "I don't need a friend and certainly not one like you."

He let her words wash over him, well aware that she was lashing out, feeling cornered. "I think you do, I understand more than you think."

"Why now?" she asked him coolly after a moment or two of reflective silence.

"Off the record?" he asked, looking around to check that he wasn't being overheard. She nodded her head warily, dreading what he might say next. "I did something I shouldn't have the other day, something that someone close to me wouldn't have liked."

My God, what was he going to confess to her, would she be thrust back into another situation that she would be powerless to control?

"What did you do?"

"I did something off-shift that I promised that I wouldn't do again. I let down the one person who'd always stuck by me by betraying his trust in me."

"What's this got to do with me, Ryan?"

"I realised the other night that what I was doing was wrong, this person had put their faith in me when no one else would and what did I do? The moment their back was turned I went right back to my old ways."

She sat listening to him as he gazed into the distance, as if reliving some painful memory.

"This person needs my support now…I came to the realisation that I was selfish doing what I did. They showed me that I could be a better person….make better choices than I had in the past. They made me feel as if I was part of something, part of something important and that what we were doing really mattered."

"That's a nice story…." she began, only to be cut off by Ryan.

"Just shut up and listen for once. The person that I owe everything to…he tried to push everyone away, convinced that he could handle things on his own…..it didn't work out too well for him either. You can't keep pushing everyone away, Hil, you need to let someone in….sooner or later."

He reached out his hand again and was relieved when she didn't immediately pull away. "Everyone needs a family, you can't keep travelling this path alone…..I won't let you."

"You don't mean that."

"I do, I just hope in time that you'll realise that. Don't let this be the one thing that controls your career, you're better than that."

She gave him a humourless laugh. "No other department would touch me with a ten foot pole, Ryan. Internal Affairs is all I've got….it's the best that I'm going to get, people hate me."

"I don't."

"Careful, Ryan. It'll be Department gossip that you're fraternising with the enemy…it won't do your reputation any good."

"Like it was that good to begin with," he deadpanned. "I don't care what anyone else thinks. I like you and I know that you're a good person, that's all that matters."

This time, when their eyes met, she got the sense that he was being honest with her and that perhaps his intentions toward her were honourable. She found herself standing on the edge of the abyss, her choice either to jump in and risk being hurt again or stand back and forever be alone in this world separated from those around her by doubt and distrust.

* * *

Signing off on countless reports in Horatio's office had done little to distract Calleigh from the conversation they'd had with the Chief earlier that day. Truth be told, it had gone better than she had expected but she sensed a certain amount of hesitation from Horatio, as if he wanted to say something but felt that he couldn't.

He'd left her to do most of the talking; the vast majority of the discussion had to do with Horatio's abduction and her subsequent handling of the situation. Had she done the right things, had she made the right choices?

The Chief seemed to think that she had as she sat and gave her reasons, not particularly comfortable at reliving the painful memory of those few days when Horatio had been left at the mercy of the vicious Malucci's. Chief Martin seemed understanding of the situation that the team had been thrust into and had told her that she'd handled it the best she could in the circumstances. It was hardly an out and out endorsement of her actions but it wasn't a criticism of them either.

It was perhaps fortunate that Michael Martin and Horatio went back some way as colleagues and had a friendly relationship, despite their differences in standing within the Department. The Chief seemed to have been more concerned with Horatio's wellbeing than the biased report that Sargent Craig had handed him the day before.

"I always take these things with a pinch of salt," he had told them as he dropped the file back on his desk and regarded his two subordinates. "Internal Affairs always seem to have an axe to grind, especially with you Horatio."

"So it would seem," the Lieutenant replied, looking up briefly at his superior before his head bowed once more.

"You really should stop antagonising them," Chief Martin admonished good-naturedly.

It was then that Calleigh felt the need to interject. "Forgive me, Chief, but if we've got no case to answer then why are we here?"

The smile on the Chief's face faltered as he clasped his hands together and leant forward on his desk. "There have been some salacious rumours doing the rounds in this building about the two of you. As the person who oversees the entire Police Department I have to make sure that each and every unit within the organisation is beyond reproach."

"I can assure you that we are," Calleigh added quickly as her eyes shot to Horatio who had kept his head bowed the entire time.

"Believe me Miss Duquesne, I have complete faith in both of your skills as crime scene investigators and as police officers, I have no doubt that neither of you would do anything to jeopardise your careers or your reputations. Horatio, I know that you're a good man but I have to ask…..what are your intentions towards the lovely lady sitting beside you?"

He suddenly felt his mouth go dry, unsure of what he should say. Things had moved so quickly between the two of them, did he really feel comfortable discussing his relationship with Calleigh when he wasn't even sure how to define it himself?

"Calleigh and I….." he began before pausing.

"Are a couple?" the Chief asked evenly, no hint of accusation or reproach in his voice.

"Yes we are," Calleigh answered for him before receiving a fierce glare from Horatio for her troubles.

The Chief sucked in a deep breath. "I presumed as much. You know this leaves me in quite a difficult situation don't you?"

"Chief…." Horatio began before he was once again cut off.

"I haven't finished yet," he rebuked the Lieutenant gently. "Fraternisation between colleagues is frowned upon within the Department for obvious reasons….reasons that I'm sure I don't need to tell you, especially when it concerns a subordinate and their superior. The rules are there for a reason, to protect everyone and the Department itself. That as it may be….I've come to a decision….."

Both of them looked at the Chief expectantly.

"Given that I know you as well as I do, Horatio, I have decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. I have faith that your personal feelings towards Miss Duquesne will not affect your professional judgement but should I find even the slightest hint that it has or that it might, you will feel the full force of my disappointment in you. Is that understood?"

Horatio's head rose in shock, he'd not expected the Chief to take kindly to his dalliance with Calleigh, let alone give his approval of their relationship and his blessing for it to continue. "I'm not quite sure what to say," he finally uttered as his eyes met those of the Chief and found his superior smiling at him.

"Just because I'm part of the brass now it doesn't mean that I'm a heartless bastard. I'm surprised it took you this long to realise what everyone else could see all along. You've spent too long on your own, Horatio. You need something else in your life apart from your lab," seeing the look on the Lieutenant's face he continued before the younger man could object. "You deserve a little happiness my friend, who am I to stand in the way of that?"

"Thank you, Chief, we won't let you down," Calleigh told him brightly, momentarily giddy with glee.

"Be sure that you don't," he replied as he watched them stand to leave, calling out to the Lieutenant as he reached out his hand for the door handle. "Horatio?"

"Yes, Chief?"

"Look after yourself, that's an order."

Horatio gave his superior a small smile, "Yes, sir."

It was obvious to Calleigh that the last 48 hours had taken their toll on Horatio, so many things had happened in such a short space of time that he'd barely had time to take a breath let alone process anything that had occurred and it began to worry her that it would all become too much for his still-fragile state of mind.

At least it was a weight off of both of their minds that the IAB investigation had been concluded and that the Chief had given them his blessing for their blossoming relationship to continue. How she wished she could have taken back those hurtful words she had said to him yesterday, he'd told her that he'd already forgiven her, but how could there be any justification for what she had said to him?

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, last night:**

It had been a long day for both of them and Calleigh was not surprised when Horatio broke free from her embrace and told her that he would retire to their room for the night. She had suddenly felt very alone as Moses turned tail and followed his beloved master up the stairs, sauntering his way into the room and onto the bed, making sure that he got the best spot possible before his human roommates could make themselves comfortable.

She would have liked to have followed them up the stairs, her body yearning for a repeat of the night before, but she knew that she needed to give Horatio a little time and space. His question had caught her off guard; neither of them had even tried to define their relationship until now, preferring to let things develop naturally. What would happen if they took the plunge and confirmed their relationship status not only to themselves but to the entire Department too?

Would putting a label on what they had change things, would one or both of them be forced to leave the Lab due to some bureaucratic nonsense?

More to the point, were either of them ready to sacrifice their professional relationship for their personal one?

There were too many questions and not enough answers to satisfy either of them, after months of uncertainty they had finally found a little solid ground and now they were facing the prospect of having that stability ripped away from them again. Were either of them that sure of their feelings that they were willing to gamble the rest of their careers on it?

When she had finally retired to bed she found her lover lying on his side, eyes closed and seemingly asleep. She had tried to be as quiet as possible but the squeaky floorboards by their king-size bed had other ideas as he cracked an eye open and looked at her.

"It's late, Calleigh. You should have come to bed earlier," he told her as he lifted the thin top sheet to allow her to climb into the bed with him.

"I had a lot to think about," she told him cryptically as he nodded his head and pulled her closer to him, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

"Calleigh, if it comes down to it…you know the choice I'll make."

"No, you won't have to. It'll be fine," she told him even though she didn't really believe it herself.

"Sweetheart, you know that it's a possibility…..you have to let me make that decision, you owe it to me."

"I'm not talking about this," she said as she tried to shut down the conversation again.

"If it comes down to it…..you have to let me do it. Please, Calleigh, I've never asked anything of you before…..I'm begging you, let me do it if I have to."

"You shouldn't have to make that choice. It's not fair, Horatio!"

He wiped away the tears that had spilled onto her cheeks with his thumbs, "I don't even have to think about it, given a choice I'll always choose you."

He looked at her with those soulful blue eyes that were so full of patience and understanding and suddenly she no longer felt worthy of the love that he was bestowing on her. She nodded her head and closed her eyes as he pulled her closer still, until her head was resting on his chest, quietly sobbing herself to sleep as he held her tightly and rubbed circles on her bare skin, soothing her in the way that only he could.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

"H, I'm glad I caught up with you."

Ryan's voice floated to him from the other end of the locker room as he made his way from the bathroom. "Mr Wolfe," he replied as a way of greeting.

"Natalia told me that she saw you and Calleigh heading up to see the Chief earlier."

"Did she now?" the Lieutenant replied as he stood side on and regarded his young colleague.

"Please tell me you didn't do what I think you've done." Ryan kicked himself mentally for babbling as Horatio gave him a quizzical look.

"And what might that be, Mr Wolfe?"

The two men stood looking at each other. "Put in for retirement," Ryan finally blurted out after a prolonged silence between the pair of them. "I know how much stress you've been under recently and that you just need a little time to get things straight. It's not worth throwing your career away over it. What happened at the warehouse was just a blip, you'll get through this…I know you will...I..."

"Mr Wolfe?"

It was only when Horatio interrupted him that he realised that he'd been babbling again, his mouth running at a mile a minute as his brain struggled to keep up and match the frenetic pace it had been set. He closed his mouth slowly as Horatio cocked his head to the side and raised it to look at him intently.

"I appreciate your concern…..things are being handled, I'm sure it will all come to a satisfactory resolution soon."

What the hell did that mean?

Horatio was enigmatic at the best of times; only revealing what he wanted others to see, keeping so much hidden beneath his calm exterior.

"You're a fine CSI, Mr Wolfe. I have no doubt of your ability to one day run this facility."

That had sounded like a goodbye if ever he'd heard one.

"Horatio, I need to tell you something."

The older man twiddled the sunglasses he held in his hands as he looked up at his colleague. "I'm listening,"

"I did something the other day….something I'm not proud of. I betrayed your trust in me….I'm sorry."

He couldn't bear to see the look of disappointment on Horatio's face, he hung his head and kept his gaze directed to the floor, the other man's quiet voice made him jump.

"It's ok, Ryan. I forgive you."

His head shot up as he looked at him. "How can you forgive me? You don't even know what I've done!"

The other man walked towards him slowly, "It's not about the mistakes you make, Mr Wolfe, but how you learn from them. Our choices define the life we lead; I have faith that you'll make the right choice."

"And what about you?"

"Time will tell, Mr Wolfe…time will tell," Horatio responded with a brief smile as he passed by the younger man and left the room.


	53. Chapter 53

"Good afternoon, Sally."

The young receptionist visibly jumped as she heard the low smoky voice, feeling the blood rush to her face as she blushed prettily at her latest visitor.

He stood before her, the fine Italian tailoring and the ever-present sunglasses in his hands, standing to the side across the room. If her studies had taught her one thing it was that Horatio Caine was a creature of habit.

"Good afternoon, sir," she replied as she slowly regained her faculties and her ability to string a coherent sentence together, shuffling the papers in front of her as she pretended to look busy.

She avoided looking into his piercing blue eyes as he made his way towards her. "My friends call me Horatio…..how about we start with that?"

He gave her such a reassuring smile that she felt instinctively that she could trust him, that his pleasant and polite demeanour was part of who he really was and not just some cheap act to get what he wanted.

She'd seen plenty of those men before, in her experience handsome men were often arrogant and superficial, more caught up in their own self-importance and image than to care about the women in their life. Most of the men that she dated in her younger years were pleasing to the eye but were also some of the vilest human beings that she had ever met.

It seemed to be a character flaw of hers to get caught up with all the wrong men, men who only wanted to have a quick fumble or a one night stand, men who would sleep with any woman if it got them what they wanted. They would flash a brilliant smile, and time and again she would fall for their transparent charm, fooling herself that this time it would be different.

Her experience of the opposite sex, apart from her foster father and Dr Pearce, had taught her than men could not be trusted, that a flash of a smile and a few reassuring words here and there would be all they needed for her to fall for their charms hook, line, and sinker.

It had served to make her wary of men in general, having never really found a man that she could trust and rely on not to let her down or disappoint her. As she looked into his clear blue eyes she could sense that his kindness and generosity were not an act but part of who he really was. Did this man have any idea the calming affect he had on those around him?

"Are you ok, Sally?" he asked with concern in his voice, aware that she had not uttered a word in the last few moments.

"Yes…err…Dr Pearce will be with you shortly," she stammered as she realised she had been caught staring at him again.

_Control yourself, _she mentally chided. This man was old enough to be her father and more than that, it seemed inappropriate to have a crush on a client no matter how handsome they might be.

Any further blushes were spared when the doctor made a timely entrance into the waiting area and greeted his client. "Horatio, good to see you. Would you like to come through?"

She felt herself blush again as he gave her a small smile and a nod of the head before following the therapist into his office.

"Take a seat," Jeff instructed as he made himself comfortable behind his desk. "How have things been since I saw you last?" he asked as he opened up the file in front of him and picked up a pen. He couldn't fail to see the frown that crossed his client's face.

"Complicated," Horatio responded as he finally sat down after a few moments of pacing and hovering.

"That sounds interesting; do you want to tell me about it?"

"It's long and...complicated."

"Well, we've got time," Jeff countered as he sensed the other man's reluctance to talk openly. "How about I start you off with a question?" he suggested.

Horatio regarded the doctor warily, already knowing that Jeff was able to match wits and call his bluff on several occasions, did he really want to go toe to toe with this man right now?

He watched as Jeff sauntered over to the corner of the room and prepared refreshments, handing him a black coffee wordlessly.

He was a curious man if nothing else, the scientist and detective in him couldn't resist being intrigued as to what the therapist might ask him. "I'm listening."

"How's your sex life?"

The hot black liquid spurted from his mouth in a torrent as the question took him by surprise. For a man who was normally so calm and controlled, the action, and subsequent coughing fit made him look foolish in comparison as he took Jeff's proffered napkin and cleaned himself, all the while shooting fierce glares at the doctor.

"I don't feel comfortable discussing that," Horatio muttered after regaining his composure.

"Come on, Horatio. I think we're both a little long in the tooth to be getting coy about talking about sex. You don't have to go into details about it…..I don't need to know the ins and outs."

He cocked an eyebrow at Jeff's unfortunate turn of phrase. "What do you want to know?"

"Have you had any issues with getting an erection?"

He felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment as Jeff continued to look at him, no hint of a smile or smirk gracing the other man's features. "No, I haven't," he replied after taking a deep breath or two.

"So you and Calleigh have slept together?"

He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, completely ill at ease with the topic of conversation. He twiddled the sunglasses in his hands as he tried to formulate a response that would enable him to wriggle his way out of the matter at hand. The silence in the room stretched until he finally gave in, unable to find a way to avoid talking about it.

"Yes, we have."

"When?"

He let out an exasperated sigh. "What does that have to do with anything?" The doctor continued to look at him until he felt compelled to answer the question. "The night before last."

"So you did take on board what we discussed then?" Jeff asked him, a small smile crossing his aged features. "Well done, Horatio."

The words were meant to be encouraging but only served to make him feel as if he were being given a pat on the head, like a child being rewarded for good behaviour. Suddenly the feelings of bitterness began to creep back into his mind, how this man dare patronise him!

"I don't need your praise," he growled as he shot Jeff a ferocious glare.

It took the doctor a few moments to understand how his client could have misconstrued his comments; he worked quickly to rectify the situation. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong. What I meant was that it was a huge step forwards for you, for the first time in a very long time you chose happiness for yourself, you opened yourself up to Calleigh. That's a big thing."

"You make me sound like some kind of heartless monster," he countered feebly, feeling the anger drain away slowly once more, was he going soft in his old age?

Jeff bent his head as he tried to make eye contact with his evasive client. "You opened up and talked about your past with me, you let Calleigh in emotionally, these are all good things, Horatio. You should take encouragement with how far you've come already."

The two of them sat in silence once more as Horatio fiddled with his sunglasses, avoiding looking the therapist in the eyes, knowing that the man could clearly read him by body language and facial expressions alone.

"So how has it felt letting Calleigh in…..showing her the real you?"

Horatio once again pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before speaking. "We'd had a bit of a disagreement beforehand, she gave me an ultimatum…either open up or there'd be no future for us."

"I'm sure she wasn't quite that blunt about it. So do you feel like you were forced into it?"

Horatio let out a frustrated sigh. "No, perhaps it gave me the kick up the backside that I needed to stop being such a coward."

"You were afraid of opening yourself up to someone else?" the question held no hint of condescension or accusation. "Were you afraid of what she'd see if you did?"

The Lieutenant nodded his head sadly. "Yes."

"Her reaction wasn't what you were expecting?"

Horatio raised his head this time to look at the therapist; the desperate need to understand why Calleigh hadn't recoiled away from him was overwhelming. "She just accepted me for what I was…..what I looked like. She could have her pick of any of the men she wanted, why did she choose me?"

"Maybe it's because she loves you?"

"What have I got to offer her?"

"Well, I'm sure Calleigh has her reasons. Besides, you're a handsome man, you shouldn't sell yourself short. I'm sure you've got a great deal to offer her. Look, you've spent so long pushing people away that you're frightened that if you let people get too close that they're going to leave you again."

"Perhaps," he agreed reluctantly.

"Calleigh's stuck with you this long, I'm fairly sure she's not going to be giving up on you any time soon."

Horatio nodded his head slightly but remained silent, now it was Jeff's turn to feel the need to fill the gap in the conversation.

"Things have been going well between you and Calleigh then?"

After three sessions, Jeff was confident that he knew when his client was holding something back from him. More often than not it was the stubborn Lieutenant's refusal to make eye contact or the unconscious way he gripped the glasses in his hands tighter that gave him away.

"For a while," Horatio responded quietly.

"What happened?"

Horatio let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes briefly as his mind wandered back to the argument he'd had with Calleigh the morning after they'd made love. "Calleigh…..uh…she did something reckless, something that I didn't agree with. She risked her career to protect me."

"And you got pissed at her?" Again, Jeff's voice held no hint of accusation as he sought to clarify what the other man was trying to tell him.

Horatio's head shot up at the question. "Of course I did, she had no right to put her own career on the line for me. She betrayed my trust….she lied to me!"

The anger was clear in Horatio's voice as he found his heart rate and breathing increase in time with his fury at Calleigh's infuriatingly thoughtless actions.

"You're not angry that she kept it from you, you're angry because she did something to protect you. You spend so long being everyone else's protector and your past has taught you that you've got no one to rely on but yourself. I think it came as a shock to you that someone would risk everything they have to help you."

"But it's not right, she's worked hard to get where she has. I'm not worth throwing it all away over," Horatio responded quietly, the fight draining from his voice as he spoke.

"This leads us back to one of your biggest issues, your lack of self-worth. I know it's not easy, but you need to realise that there are people around you that care about you and want to help you, they don't necessarily want anything in return either."

Horatio remained quiet for a number of moments, digesting Jeff's words. "Forgive me, Jeff, but that's never really been my experience in life."

"Then you need a new set of experiences, Horatio," the older man replied brightly as he scribbled something down in the file before regarding his client again. "Are you and Calleigh ok now?"

"There were other issues that day," the Lieutenant replied evasively.

"Wow, you sure don't like to do things by halves do you?"

Jeff received a glare for his troubles in response. "Tell me what else happened that day."

Again, there was a pause before Horatio took a deep breath and began explaining. "I'd gone back to my house after the shift; I wanted to collect a few things before heading back to Calleigh's. My ex-wife turned up on my doorstep whilst I was there."

"Laura? Your ex from New York?"

Horatio nodded his head in response before letting it drop again. "I had no idea she was even in Miami, her visit took me by surprise."

"I should think so," Jeff mused as he made a note. "What was her reaction to coming face to face with you after so long?"

"Not good," Horatio replied succinctly as he screwed his face into a grimace.

"Was she angry, upset, perhaps a little shocked that you were still alive after all these years?"

"That would be one way of putting it, Jeff."

"What happened?"

"You mean after she'd finished hitting me and screaming at me?" Jeff rolled his eyes at the other man's sarcastic reply before motioning for him to continue. "She…..she wanted to see what they'd done to me."

"The Malucci's?"

Horatio nodded his head. "I couldn't stop her, Jeff. Even after everything I've been through…..everything I put her through. I couldn't deny her anything." His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as he closed his eyes at some long-forgotten memory that forced its way to the surface.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1991:**

Six months after their wedding, the two lovers found themselves falling into an easy routine, spending their days working and their nights enjoying themselves and each other's company. Their home life was good; his career was another matter entirely.

The strain of carrying his partner was beginning to get too much for him, there were days when Andy wouldn't even show at all for his shift and several times he'd been forced to make up some elaborate lie on the fly to protect his wayward partner from the suspicions of the Precinct's Lieutenant.

The days that Andy did show up were usually a bust; he'd be so hung-over or lethargic that he'd be little or no use at all. He'd tried talking to the older man a number of times, he'd usually been greeted with a smart remark or a scathing put down for his troubles, told to mind his own before being threatened with the business end of his partner's boot.

Today had been one of those days that Andy had shown up but had made a complete ass of himself, and by extension, him. The pair of them had been raked across the coals for an error so simple that a school boy wouldn't have made it. Fancy wasn't interested in hearing whose fault it was as he raised his normally quiet and controlled voice, giving both detectives a piece of his mind.

He cursed himself for ever leaving Andy in charge of the chain of custody for the evidence that they'd found at the crime scene today. As usual, the older man had decided necking half a bottle of booze was more important than filling in the evidence log, carelessly leaving the bloodied knife they had found on the passenger seat of his car, an error that didn't go unnoticed by an ADA making their way into the Precinct building for another case.

There was no way that the evidence would stand up in court and so any fingerprints or valuable evidence that they lifted from the item would be excluded from any subsequent trial. There had rarely been a time when he'd felt more humiliated than he had today as he and Andy stalked back out into the squad room with their tails firmly wedged between their legs with all of the other detectives looking at them, smirking or muttering under their breath.

The end of the shift couldn't come soon enough for him; he grabbed his suit jacket and left the squad room without a second glance at Andy, still furious at him for his earlier cock-up.

He'd got back to the apartment that he shared with his wife at a little after six that evening, dismayed to find a message on the answering machine from her, telling him that she would be at least an hour late getting home tonight. After a crappy day at work he was faced with the realisation that it was also his turn to cook. There were times when he cursed being so willing to please his wife, why couldn't he be more misogynistic like his colleagues at work?

_Because Mom didn't raise you that way, _he told himself as he shuffled into the small kitchen area and began removing pots and pans, wracking his brains for what he'd be able to create with from the contents of the fridge and cupboards.

He'd left their dinner in a pan on the stove to simmer as he waited for her to come home, lying back on the couch he told himself that he would close his eyes only for a few moments.

He was woken by the pleasurable sensation of a pair of womanly hands running their way up and down his chest as he smirked, keeping his eyes closed and enjoying the physical contact between them. "You're late," he teased as he cocked an eye open to look at her.

"What's for dinner?" she asked him playfully as he sat up and pulled her closer.

"Just something I threw together," he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly at her.

She rewarded him with a deep kiss as her hands ran through his short red hair. "Good boy."

A full stomach and two bottles of beer later, he was beginning to feel the hassles of the day catch up with him. He watched from his lying position on the couch as his eyes followed her actions as she cleared the dishes away, hypnotised by the graceful way she moved around their apartment. The longer he watched her, the more mesmerised he became by her actions until he felt his eyes grow heavy, his last vision was that of his beautiful wife as she bent over seductively as she pottered about in the kitchen.

"So….how about we enjoy desert in the bedroom?"

She sauntered out into the living area after receiving no reply to her amorous question, frowning when she found her husband fast asleep on the sofa, his tie loosened and the two top buttons of his shirt undone, allowing a small tuft of chest hair to poke through. He looked slightly boyish when he slept, she thought as she smoothed back a lock of hair that had fallen across his forehead and was rewarded with a cheeky grin.

"I thought you were tired," she asked him coyly as she felt his hands reach out for her.

"I'm never that tired," he replied as he grabbed her and pulled her close, his hands working to divest her of her clothes as soon as possible.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

"So you and Laura had a passionate relationship?" Jeff asked as he tried to regain Horatio's focus on him and not some distant memory from the past.

"I loved her, she was my wife," the other man replied as if that would explain everything.

"Do you still love her?"


	54. Chapter 54

It was a question that he'd hoped Jeff wouldn't ask him. He was more than a little confused at the moment, for months he'd not had the ability or energy to even consider that part of his human instincts as he fought to regain physical strength and emotional stability with Calleigh by his side.

Their physical union two nights ago had ignited feelings in him that he had denied himself for so long. Marisol's untimely death had caused him to pull away from any kind of meaningful relationship for fear of losing yet another loved one. For years he had isolated himself away from the loving touch of a woman, convincing himself that it was his penance for his wife's death, believing that it had been God's way of showing him that it was safer all round that he remained alone, living a life of solitude.

It was only when he'd been shot and was lying on the cold and wet pier that he was finally reunited with his beloved wife for the first time since her murder. She had told him that it was not yet his time and that there was more for him to do, she told him to be happy and move on in his life without her.

At first he had put it down to a hysterical hallucination as his body fought against the symptoms of shock as blood loss and a near-fatal dip in the ocean hampered the oxygen supply to his brain. Even as he lay in a hospital bed recovering after single-handedly capturing Jack Toller, he could not shake the feeling that something had changed deep within him.

Calleigh would visit him on a daily basis until he was released from the hospital with strict instructions to take it easy for at least a month to give his body time to rest and recover. He'd refused to listen to them, as usual, and was back at the Lab the next week, limping and wincing at every turn, but emphatically back in the place where he belonged.

He got the impression that Calleigh was hovering around him, afraid that he would collapse and fall to the ground at any moment. He'd tried to gently persuade her to leave him be, yet she refused to listen as she infected his brooding moods with her perkiness. It was such a gradual process that neither of them had truly understood what was happening between them as they began meeting in the break room for coffee or outside in the park for lunch.

It had been such a very long time since he'd let himself get this close to anyone, as their friendly banter slowly turned into flirting and meaningful looks across the Lab and interview room. The voices in his mind had screamed at him to pull away, but he couldn't deny the fact that he had become deeply attracted to his ballistics expert.

In hindsight, the attraction had always been there since the first time they had met in New Orleans, the way that they smiled at each other or shared in some little private joke. The first few years in Miami were often filled with playful banter and light teasing, as the years rolled by he found himself increasingly isolated from those around him as he purposefully kept himself to the shadows, protecting himself from the inevitable heartache that would follow.

They hadn't so much as shared a kiss before his world had imploded around him, the very day that he collapsed in his office he and Calleigh had been at each other's throats as he refused to divulge the truth about Agent Collins and his visit to the Lab. The last real memory he had of that day was Calleigh shouting at him to pull his head out of his ass, the rest of it was nothing more than a jumbled blur of sights, smells and sounds.

He'd woken days later only to find that he had no recollections of the last eighteen years, he'd been confused and angry at anyone who dared visit him during that time, forced to confront the uncomfortable truth about his past as it all came spilling out uncontrollably. He remembered that Calleigh had been the one constant throughout that time, refusing to leave his side.

She had also been the first person he remembered seeing after waking up after his dramatic rescue at sea. She had stayed by his side every day as he tried to push her and his other loved ones away, struggling to come to terms with what had happened to him. She'd seen him at his very worst, yet still loved him despite it.

He'd tried to fight it for so long until he couldn't deny himself any longer. His love for her was obvious in the intimate moments they had shared, but it had also unwittingly unleashed a torrent of pent-up emotions in him. Love had always been such an erratic concept to him, never staying too long in his life. He knew the depths of the feelings that he had for Calleigh but Lori's unexpected appearance at his house had unearthed a multitude of feelings that he had kept so well hidden until now.

"You're confused about your feelings aren't you?"

Jeff's voice served to bring him out of his musings and back to the present. "I love Calleigh….I love her deeply…"

"Yet there's still unfinished business with your ex-wife. I think you need to sit down and talk with Laura, finally set those demons to rest once and for all."

"You make it sound so easy," Horatio replied as he shot Jeff a sour look.

"I never said it would be easy, my friend. Laura was obviously a huge part of your life as John, I think that maybe talking things through with her and coming to some sort of understanding is the key to you being able to dump a lot of this emotional baggage and get on with your life."

He sat and stared at the doctor for a number of moments before replying. "Perhaps you're right."

"Hey, I'm always right. I'm a doctor, remember?" Jeff teased as he closed the file in front of him. "That'll do it for today, I'm sure I've given you plenty to think about."

"Indeed."

"I'll see you on Monday, same time, ok?"

"Agreed."

He sat in his comfy leather chair as he watched the Lieutenant rise to leave the room. "Do me a favour, Horatio," he called out as the man walked towards the door. "Meet with Laura but don't hide it from Calleigh, you've got to be honest with her…..she deserves that much."

Horatio's only response was a slight nod of the head as he made his way back out into the world outside.

* * *

"Hey, Cal, you got a second?" Eric asked as he popped his head around Horatio's office door, frowning as he saw the troubled look on his former lover's face. "Something up?" he asked as he walked in and shut the door behind him.

"No, it's fine, Eric. Just got a lot of things on my mind, it's not been an easy day."

"Your meeting with the Chief?" he asked as he leant back in the chair he'd lowered himself into.

"How did you know about that?"

"It's Department gossip, you and H were seen with the Chief's aide this morning. Where is he by the way?"

"He's not here at the moment," she replied evasively as she refused to look at him, a clear sign to the Cuban that she was holding something back.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked as he could feel his temper rising, panic and fear for Horatio flooding through his brain. "He's family, Cal. I have a right to know if something's wrong."

"Please, Eric. If you care about either of us then you'll let this drop, he doesn't need this right now."

"I have a right to know," he repeated indignantly as his voice rose.

"No you don't!" she shot back quickly, "You've got to stop treating him like he owes you something."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he shot back as his nostrils flared.

"Ever since…" she began before pulling back quickly, not wanting to put into words what she had felt for years.

"Ever since what, Calleigh? Say it!"

"Fine, ever since Marisol died you've been acting like you have some kind of hold over him. You rub it in Ryan's face every chance you get that you're closer to Horatio than he is, you've never let Horatio forget the fact that Marisol died because of him."

"I've never said that!"

"But you've never told him that it wasn't his fault either. Don't you think he has enough to feel guilty about already?"

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 3 weeks ago:**

He'd chosen to hide himself away most of yesterday after her unexpected outburst of anger at him in the car. He'd turned tail and shut himself away in the bedroom for the majority of the afternoon feigning tiredness from his session with the physiotherapist as he sought to avoid her at every opportunity.

_Stupid male pride! _She thought as she shuffled around in the kitchen preparing a dinner that Horatio would likely tell her he wasn't hungry enough to eat. There had been little in the way of noise emanating from the bedroom and so she chose to believe that perhaps he was actually getting a little sleep and the rest that his body so desperately needed.

The nightmares still haunted him on an almost daily basis; she would be the one constant throughout those long nights as she held him close as she shook him from one horrific dream after another. The time had long since passed for soothing words, instead she chose to pull him close and embrace him until he fell back asleep, never letting him go until the next morning.

It had become their routine for so long now that it no longer seemed strange that they were sharing a bed each night. Both needing the close contact of the other but for very different reasons. She needed to reassure herself that he was still there after the traumatic few days that he had gone missing and he needed her to help keep the demons at bay as they came for him night after night.

When had their mutually beneficial sleeping arrangement turned into something more?

There had been hints of promise in the weeks leading up to Horatio's head injury and subsequent loss of memory and abduction. All of that fell by the wayside as both of their thoughts were consumed by his lengthy recovery from the vicious wounds inflicted on him by his captors both physical and emotional.

She'd tried keeping her temper in check, but Horatio was nothing if not exasperatingly stubborn at times as he continued to try to push people away. She'd had all she could take of his sulking and pitying behaviour until she finally snapped at him. Both had been surprised at the outburst but it spurred her on to be bolder with him, refusing to let him hide away any longer.

She'd kissed him, more than that; she'd almost jumped his bones right then and there in the car, not caring who might have seen them. And he'd responded in kind, a willing participant in her amorous actions until something made him pull away suddenly. What was it that was holding him back?

He'd bolted from the vehicle before she'd had a chance to ask him and had avoided her ever since, refusing to engage in conversation with her.

_Enough is enough. I'm done letting you hide._

She made her way up to the bedroom, not bothering to knock when she found the door closed. It was only when she entered the room that she silently wished that she had knocked, maybe it would have woken him from the distressing dream he appeared to be having.

_Ten year old John Kelly limped home slowly as he looked down sullenly at his torn t-shirt and dirt-covered pants, his eye throbbing and his lip still stinging from the hits he'd taken earlier in the day._

_He knew he'd be hopelessly outnumbered but there was no way that he would let anyone talk trash about his father. The boys in the schoolyard had been teasing him about his father's death, taking delight in seeing the skinny red-headed boy get increasingly upset at their cruel taunts. He'd had just about as much as he could take of it, with fists clenched he walked up to the tallest of the boys, all of which were at least two or three years older than him, tapping him on the shoulder before punching him straight in the mouth._

_"Shut up about my father," he screamed as he stood over the other boy._

_All it took was one nod of the head from the bully, the other boys were on him in an instant as they decided to teach the young upstart a lesson in manners and respect for his elders._

_It must have been only a few minutes later when a teacher broke the fight up as he was left panting and gasping for breath as he held on to his tender stomach. He felt himself being dragged away by the collar and hauled before the headmaster knowing that his mother would find out and be disappointed in him._

_Her reaction as he walked through the front door made him feel worse as she burst into tears at the very sight of him, pulling him close and hugging him tightly._

_"Oh, Johnny. You silly, silly boy. What have you done?" she sobbed as she gripped onto him._

_"They were talking trash about Pops. I wasn't going to let them get away with that," he replied, even though his voice was muffled by his face's close proximity to her shoulder._

_He'd sat quietly as she tended to his wounds, feeling guiltier by the minute as she continued to wipe away the blood and dirt as tears coursed down her ageing face. It was hours later when his father's former partner knocked on his bedroom door and entered, sitting down next to him on his bed._

_"We need to have a little chat, Johnny. Man to man."_

_"Ok," he replied nervously._

_"What happened today…..it can't happen again."_

_"Why not? Those boys were talking crap about my father!"_

_His cheeks flushed with shame as Officer Scott arched an eyebrow at him, conveying his displeasure at his smart mouth. "Sorry, sir," he muttered as he lowered his head._

_"You gotta be the man of the house now, Johnny. Your mother needs you; you can't go around getting yourself into fights anymore. You understand?"_

_"Yes, sir," he replied quietly as he picked at a hole in his pants._

_"Your mom has enough to deal with; she doesn't need to be worrying about you every two minutes."_

_"I'm sorry, sir." He daren't look up at his father's partner for fear of seeing the disappointment on his face._

_"It's not me that you should be apologising to, kid."_

She stood enraptured for a number of minutes as she watched his head toss from side to side, the sunlight glinting off of the tears on his face as it streamed in through the open window, debating as whether to wake him.

Somehow he had been alerted to her presence as he opened his eyes and allowed them to acclimatise to the light in the room, the colour drained from his face as the realisation that he had been caught crying in front of Calleigh dawned on him. How could she ever love a man as weak as him?

"Are you ok?" she asked him as she walked towards the bed, watching him pull himself up awkwardly with his good arm.

"I'm fine," he mumbled without looking at her, wiping roughly at the moisture on his face.

"About yesterday….." she began.

"I'm sorry," he interrupted her before she'd had time to finish her sentence.

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because it shouldn't have happened," he told her as his sad blue eyes met her green ones.

"Why not?"

"Calleigh I'm no good for you…I'm no good for any of you."

"I don't care, I love you."

"Well you shouldn't."

"But I do... Do you love me?"

He ran a haggard hand over his face as he considered her question. He had deep feelings for her, of that he had no doubt. The trouble was that he was so disoriented by the magnitude of what had happened to him recently that he simply had no idea what he felt about anything. It was hard enough getting up each morning to greet the day after the harrowing nights before that he had little or no time to even consider how he was really feeling. Right now, existing was the best he could do.

The passionate kiss that Calleigh had planted on his lips had taken him by surprise, as did his own reaction to her bold move. For a precious few moments he allowed himself to get carried away, his mind not drifting to some horrific memory for a blissful few seconds. He knew it would never last though; sooner or later the demons would come back out to play, haunting his nights and now his days too.

He would have loved to give himself over to her, to return the love that she clearly held for him but he was emotionally crippled, unable to express anything except anger and shame at his inability to function as a normal human being. She deserved better than that…..better than him.

"Please, Horatio. Just let me know that you feel something towards me."

She sat down on the bed next to him and leaned over, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes and let her, she took hope from the fact that he had not pulled away. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

She could tell by the look on Eric's face that she had gone too far, yet the words had fallen unbidden from her mouth. Perhaps it was the result of having to deal with so much drama, she could deal with Horatio and his problems, what she really didn't need was the rest of the team acting like a bunch of school children squabbling over petty disagreements.

How the hell had Horatio done it for so long?

He'd somehow brought together this group of people and enabled them to work as a team. Perhaps it was his emotional restraint that enabled him to deal with the vastly differing personalities so well. All too often she had found herself getting too emotionally involved, perhaps Sargent Craig was right, did she really have the ability to distance her professional duties from her personal feelings for her teammates?

Horatio was far from an emotionless man that much was clear from the past few months. Was it age and wisdom that enabled him to deal with so many of the issues revolving around running the Crime Lab so effectively?

"Eric, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

There. She had tried to make amends and apologise for her harsh words, once again cursing her strong Southern temper as it clouded her rational thinking.

He continued to stare at her for a number of moments before letting out a deep sigh. "Is there something going on that I should know about?" he asked again, hoping this time that she would give him a straight answer.

She matched his sigh with one of her own. "You'll have to ask Horatio that."

The deep voice from the other end of the room made the pair of them jump visibly. "Ask me what?"


	55. Chapter 55

**A/N: I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome a new writer to the boards, HoratioInsaneCaine. Please check out their profile and have a read of their first story. Thanks!**

* * *

"H, I've been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been?"

"I had something that I needed to attend to, Eric. Was there something I can do for you?"

The Cuban regarded his brother in law, the detective in him was convinced that something was wrong with his long-time colleague and friend. "If there was something up, you'd tell me wouldn't you?"

"Indeed I would, brother," Horatio replied vaguely as he looked down to his sunglasses and back up again. "There's nothing you need to worry about…..it's being taken care of."

"You'd tell me if there was anything I could do?"

"That's correct; Eric…in fact, there is something you could do for me."

"Anything, you name it," Eric responded enthusiastically as he shot a quick glare Calleigh's way before looking back up at Horatio from his seated position.

"Whatever differences you have with Ryan…..leave them outside of the Lab. You're a senior member of the team and I expect you to act like it; don't make me regret placing my faith in you."

He felt momentarily crushed by his superior's criticism, not used to be spoken to in such a way and it had stung to think that the man he admired so much was disappointed in him. "I'm sorry, H," he replied quietly, feeling ashamed and embarrassed as he hung his head.

"I don't want you to be sorry; I want you to be the man that I know you can be. Now's the time to stand up and be counted, can you do that for me?"

Calleigh watched on in amazement as Eric nodded his head and left the office, suitably chastised by his superior yet in such a way that it served to make the man want to do better, to be better, instead of reacting angrily and sulking like a child. Whether Horatio realised it or not, there were clear signs of the leader and the man that they had all clearly come to rely on so heavily emerging gradually from the bitter shell that had been left behind all those months ago.

"How'd it go?" she asked as he closed the door behind him and walked towards the desk that used to be his.

"I'd rather not talk about it here," he frowned. "I was wondering what your plans were for tonight."

"Oh, I don't know," she replied coyly, taking heart in the fact that Horatio's earlier pensive mood appeared to have lifted a little. "I have this handsome man waiting at home for me, maybe he'll be kind enough to cook me dinner."

"Really, you think he will?"

She couldn't help the small tendrils of excitement that began to take hold in her heart. For so long their relationship had been serious and strained, a playful Horatio was something that she'd not seen for years. She'd missed the teasing banter they had shared more than she realised.

"He's a man of many talents, I'm sure he could come up with something that would take my breath away."

He cocked his head to the side as he regarded her and smiled. "As you wish, Ma'am."

* * *

After grabbing his personal effects, Eric sat in the locker room as he leant his arms on his knees. Horatio's words had wounded him deeply, yet they were true, that he couldn't deny.

Had he really been acting so childishly recently?

Perhaps it was because he'd felt the need to protect Horatio so desperately that it had clouded his judgement. His brother in law had been so vulnerable that he took it upon himself to be the man's protector until he could take care of himself, but when had the role of protector turned him into such a self-centred jerk?

In hindsight, he realised that he had intentionally made Ryan jealous, taking delight in the fact that he was granted access to see Horatio during his period of convalescence at Calleigh's house when many others were denied. It made him feel special that Horatio allowed him to see a side of him that he usually chose to keep well hidden, a fact that he was more than willing to make Ryan and the others on the team aware of.

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 2 weeks ago:**

"Where were you this morning?" Ryan asked as he looked up from the microscope he was using, Natalia working alongside him, as interested in her colleague's whereabouts as Ryan was.

"I had some personal business to attend to," he replied as he shrugged on his lab coat. "I heard it was a bad smash on the Freeway this morning. How many fatalities?"

"Seven at the last count," Natalia answered, placing her swab stick down as she spoke. "There's still at least a dozen more in critical condition at Dade Memorial."

"You guys need a hand processing?" Eric asked as he peered over Ryan's shoulder.

"Where _were_ you this morning?" the shorter man asked him again.

His two colleagues looked at him expectantly, wanting answers as to his whereabouts earlier in the day. It would be pointless trying to avoid the subject, they were crime scene investigators, they'd work it out eventually. Even so, a part of him wanted to tell them anyway, knowing they would be put out that he had been granted access when they hadn't.

"I was taking Horatio to the hospital," he replied finally.

"What, is he alright?" Natalia gasped as her gloved hand shot to her mouth.

"He's fine, he's fine," Eric replied, smiling at his colleagues. "Calleigh was tied up here at the Lab and asked me to take him to his rehab session."

Natalia felt herself physically relax as Eric's words sank in; they'd all been in a heightened sense of panic for months now. In between Horatio being abducted, tortured and rescued they'd all had their fair share of moments when fear took over rational thinking. "Thank God for that. Any news on when he'll be back?"

The tall Cuban folded his arms over his chest and took a small sense of satisfaction that he knew more about their leader's state of health than they did. In Horatio's absence it made him the big man around the Lab and the go-to guy for updates on their superior's condition. It also didn't hurt that Horatio had been more open with him than he had with any other member of the team apart from Calleigh; the others had all been banned from the blonde woman's house whilst Horatio recovered from his injuries.

"Well, after only a week of rehab H says he wants to take his physical next week. Alexx says next month if he's lucky."

"But that's good news, right?" Ryan asked, "I mean, at least he's focused on getting back here."

Eric would have liked to agree with his teammate yet he knew that Horatio's moods, as well as his state of mind, were delicate at best. Some days would be better than others, today had been one of the better ones, and Horatio had seemed more upbeat about his progress than he had in weeks. All it would take was one poor day in the gym or pool with his physiotherapist and the small amount of confidence he'd managed to build would come crashing down around him.

It had always been Horatio's way to push himself too hard, the man seemingly never gave his abused body a break when he became focused on a goal. It didn't just become a target, it became an obsession to him as he drove himself past his own physical limits, not caring what affect it would have later on down the line. At least it had stopped the man from continually brooding the whole time, now that his strength and mobility were returning he finally had something to occupy his mind rather than his troubled past. Still, he couldn't help but get the feeling that they were just papering over the cracks. It wasn't just the physical wounds that would need healing.

Eric was roused from his thoughts by Natalia's voice. "You think he'd be up for some visitors? It's been ages since he's seen any of us."

There was a certain level of hope in her voice as she looked at him anxiously. Calleigh's words reverberated around his head as she told him repeatedly that the team visiting Horatio whilst he was still convalescing would be a bad idea. There would be no way that the stubborn Lieutenant would want his team to see him in such a position of weakness.

"Sorry guys, close family only I'm afraid. I'll let you know when you can though."

The words sounded smug even to his own ears, Natalia's face dropped as Ryan sent a scowl his way. Perhaps it was a bit mean to add the bit about family but he couldn't help himself, he wanted the others to know how tight he and Horatio were. They had been through so much, united by death and tragedy; they shared a bond that no one else could claim to. With his brother in law out of action, he felt it only right to assert his own authority over the rest of the team, taking it upon himself to keep the others in line until Horatio could return to take over the reins.

"We don't need any help in here, Delko."

Ryan's words were cool and devoid of any emotion as he turned his back on Eric and returned his attention to the microscope. Natalia had chosen to ignore him too, he refused to let it bother him as he hung his lab coat back up, leaving the room as he went in search of Tom Loman to get the latest post mortem reports for the fifteen-car pile-up that had occurred at rush hour this morning.

He shook his head as he made his way to the elevator, if the others wanted to act like kids just because they were put out that they couldn't visit Horatio then they'd just have to get on with it, he didn't have time for their childish games. Horatio needed him more than they did and he refused to let the older man down.

* * *

**Present day. Miami: **

How could he have not seen it at the time?

How could he have acted so childishly, putting his own needs and feelings before what was best for the Lab?

Horatio's words had found their target, he realised now what an asshole he had been to his colleagues and one in particular. He pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket and dialled.

"Hey, Ryan. It's Delko, we need to talk. You wanna meet up for a beer?"

* * *

Opening the front door quietly, Calleigh found Moses and his beloved master sitting on the couch in the living room, both stretched out with their eyes closed. She felt momentarily disappointed that Horatio might have forgotten his promise to cook dinner, until she smelled the delicious aroma wafting in from the kitchen.

She almost didn't want to disturb them; Horatio had his arm wrapped protectively around the small cat. Protecting people was what he did, it was such a fundamental part of who he was that she doubted he even realised that he also did it in his sleep too. Both she and Moses had been fortunate enough to be wrapped in one of his embraces as they slept, never had she felt so safe and secure as she had in his strong arms.

Her hunger, and eagerness for dinner not to be spoiled, overrode her reluctance to wake the slumbering pair as she quietly crept over to them and placed a tender kiss on Horatio's head, smiling when he cracked an eye open to look up at her.

"What a lovely way to wake up," he told her in a sleep-filled voice before leaning forwards and planting a meaningful kiss on her lips.

"Have you and Moses been behaving yourselves?"

"We have," he replied as he picked the cat up gently and placed him on the floor, arching an eyebrow at the feline creature as it gave him a sour look and walked towards the hallway. "I thought you had a date with some handsome man tonight?" he teased as he sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"That depends on whether he's cooked me dinner or not," she retorted playfully as she shuffled closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Well it's fortunate for you that he has; dinner is ready when you are, Ma'am."

During dinner Calleigh could not escape the feeling that her lover was holding something back from her. He'd been attentive to her every need from the moment she'd come back down to the kitchen from her much-needed shower. Too attentive, she felt.

The lack of eye contact, the stilted conversation over their meal. There was something that he wasn't telling her, he'd been the same way in the meeting with the Chief earlier in the day, looking as if he wanted to say something but feeling that he couldn't. It pained her to think that after all they had been through together that he felt that he could not be completely open and honest with her, although given her track record over the last few days she could hardly blame him.

He'd been angry with her for lying to IAB and involving others in her foolish plans too, but what made it worse was the fact that she had placed the reputation of the Lab at risk. They had weathered many storms there over the years but each time it was proven that the team and his Lab were beyond reproach, integrity was everything in the Lab, without that they had nothing.

Had it only been a few short days ago that he had told her that he was proud of her?

She'd agonised over her decision to remove him from active duty, knowing that it would be a blow to his shaky confidence, yet she made the tough choice anyway and made it when he couldn't. Her decision to deliberately mislead Internal Affairs had caused him to doubt whether she truly was the most capable CSI to lead the team in his absence, a fact that was becoming more apparent as they grew closer together.

Separating heart from head was one of the hardest aspects of leadership, there would be times when you would be called upon to make difficult decisions, choices that could make or break people's careers. He'd always been told to keep his personal feelings separate from his professional duties but he'd yet to find anyone who had been able to do that successfully.

He'd tried to keep his distance from the people he worked with; the nature of the job brought them together as family. It was impossible not to build working relationships with colleagues and even harder to not cultivate those relationships into meaningful friendships.

He had to remain emotionally detached when it came to making the tough choices as leader of the Crime Lab, perhaps his dark past had enabled him to do that better than most, he'd had to fire technicians and transfer personnel even when all his colleagues disagreed with his decisions. He took on the mantle or responsibility and took the heat so that others didn't have to.

There had never been a time when he'd had a reason to question Calleigh's objectivity when it came to the Lab; she'd been level-headed and calm in even the most frenetic of situations. He'd had no doubt that she would be able to make the tough choices when he was unable to.

It was starting to become clear that Calleigh lacked the ability to separate her feelings for him from what was best for the continued success of the Lab. She had risked everything on a stupid gamble and was fortunate that it had paid off...for now. If and when he decided to take the supervisor's position back there would be some difficult conversations that he'd need to have with certain individuals, conversations that would not make him particularly popular either.

If the chaotic nature of the last few months had taught him anything it was that perhaps he didn't know his colleagues as well as he thought he did. Calleigh had proved too emotionally involved to make rational choices when it came to him, Eric had acted no better than a spoilt child in his absence and Ryan had admitted that he'd done something that he knew his superior would not be happy with.

It had served to show him that these people were still in need of some guidance, his guidance perhaps?

The team had remained stable over the last few years and functioned well as a whole, it had only been when he'd been incapacitated that the wheels had come off with alarming speed. The team were in desperate need of direction, as much like him, they had been drifting recently, bobbing from crisis to crisis as their broken and battered ship was rocked by wave after wave of chaos.

It felt as if a fog was lifting, for too long he'd been clouded by his own bitterness and pity to understand what was going on with the people around him. Looking at the sorry state of affairs before him, he realised that he owed it to Calleigh, Kyle and the team to regain his emotional footing and bring back some of the stability to the Lab that it was so clearly missing.

"Are you ok, Horatio?"

Her soft voice roused him from his thoughts, placing down his cutlery on his plate he looked up at her. "A lot has happened recently, I'm having a hard time processing it all."

"You wanna talk about it?"

He nodded his head slightly before twisting the fluted glass on the table to and fro. "I need to meet with my ex-wife…..there are things we need to discuss."

"Ok," she replied warily, trying to keep her voice level.

"The way I left things in New York…..I owe it to her….and myself to deal with things once and for all."

Fear surged through her that he would suddenly decide that he no longer wanted to be with her and that he would want to return to the woman who had held his heart so many years ago. She'd seen it in the way she held him when she'd walked in on them the other day, it wasn't the way that friends touched each other; it was the touch of a lover.

Would he suddenly become confused in his feelings for her, perhaps realising that although he felt deep affection for her that he had confused that for feelings of love?

Did he love her for the care and support that she had bestowed upon him, loving her without truly being in love with her?

Having his past thrust so violently into his present had rocked him deeply; his loss of memory had taken him back to a time when he'd been a very different person, a younger and more carefree man who had deep feelings for a woman that wasn't her. Was he thinking of her when they'd made love the other night?

It wouldn't have been the first time that he'd been thinking of his ex-wife, unconsciously or not.

* * *

**Flashback. 2 weeks ago:**

"Hey, Cal."

She beamed at Frank as he stuck his head around her office door.

"How's Horatio?" he asked as he walked in, notepad in his hand.

"Good, the physical therapy is going well. He's getting stronger every day."

Frank gave her a genuine smile. "That's great news; I take it he's desperate to get back here."

"You could say that, I think he's had enough of sitting around doing nothing. He says he wants to take the physical as soon as possible, he won't listen to what Alexx is telling him."

The big Texan huffed. "That's Horatio for you, never did know when to quit. Damn stubborn fool."

There was no malice in the gruff detective's voice, only a tone of admiration with a touch of exasperation thrown in for good measure.

"You heading home soon?" he asked a few moments after they'd shared a knowing smile about Horatio and his infuriating capacity to march to his own tune, regardless of what others thought was best for him.

"I just have these reports to sign and then I'll be off." She picked up the stack of files to emphasise her point.

"You won't miss that side of the job will you?"

She gave her colleague a wry smile. "You can say that again, Frank." She stopped for a moment as a thought occurred to her. "Maybe I should leave these for Horatio and tell him he has a huge pile of paperwork to come back to, maybe that would make him less inclined to get back here so quickly."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you so much," Frank chuckled as he tapped on his notepad. "Anyway, no rest for the wicked. Give the hard-headed fool my best will you?"

"Sure, Frank. I will."

The house was silent when she returned home and it momentarily gave her cause for concern. Eric had reported in shortly after lunch and had assured her that Horatio had been returned home safely, albeit exhausted from his therapy session. It had made her smile when Eric told her how Horatio had even driven his physical therapist to distraction with his insistence on pushing himself and how he'd kept a close eye on him as he drove his brother in law home, parking him on the couch before setting him a coffee and a sandwich for lunch.

Horatio had growled that he didn't need anyone to make lunch for him but Calleigh had given her colleague strict instructions, knowing that Horatio would conveniently forget to eat unless he was pushed to. He was still frighteningly thin and had put on next to no weight since his release from hospital.

She returned home to find him asleep but sitting up on the couch, coffee consumed but only half of the sandwich eaten. It was something at least, the pain meds that Alexx had prescribed him often made him feel nauseous, she'd added another drug to his regimen in order to combat the sickness but to little avail, he was lucky if he could eat a decent meal without wanting to vomit it all back up a short while later.

His inability to keep food down had meant that he'd been advised to consume protein shakes three times a day in an attempt to rebuild some strength and give his immune system a helping hand with combating infection and every day illnesses in his weakened condition. He'd griped and groaned about drinking milkshakes but had done so under her watchful eye, making sure that he'd consumed every last drop each time.

The small black cat that she had rescued and adopted only a few days ago came sauntering into the room, weaving in and out of her legs and rubbing himself up against her, purring in the hopes of being given a treat. She'd never been much of a cat lover, yet there was something about this creature that drew her to it. Perhaps it was the fact that Moses reminded her of the complicated man currently asleep on her couch. Both of them were wounded soldiers, in need of some tender loving care and attention.

She heard him groan, wincing in his sleep as his head moved from side to side, a permanent grimace on his face. On closer inspection she could see the sweat glistening on his forehead as he began mumbling incoherently. She struggled to hear what he was saying and inched her way closer to him, wary that his reaction might be unpredictable and violent.

She had almost reached him when he shot upright, eyes wide open and bulging as he sat up and gasped for air. The name of one woman in his mind spilled from his lips, "Lori," he croaked as he looked up at her, still in the grips of his nightmare even though his eyes were open.

He looked at her with unseeing eyes, with tears spilling from them as he reached out in her direction. "Lori, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he sobbed as she pulled him closer.

It hurt her to think that a woman from his past was so clearly on his mind, she felt unreasonable jealousy at the fact that he was not dreaming about her, although judging by his reaction it had more likely been a nightmare than any kind of pleasant dream.

She put all of that aside as she pulled him to her and held him tightly as he slowly emerged from whatever unconscious torment he'd been stuck in this time. Kissing the top of his head lightly and mumbling soothing words in an effort to calm him. Time for reflection could wait, right now he needed her.


	56. Chapter 56

He'd called Ryan but judging by the other man's toneless reply he seriously doubted whether he would show at the bar he'd suggested a few hours previously. He'd messed up big time, with his colleagues, and more to the point, Horatio.

He had been the man who had led him on his chosen career path; before he'd met the Lieutenant he'd been nothing more than a lowly recovery truck driver. He'd seen something in the cop that he wanted to emulate, he realised that his future was in making a difference to people's lives not pulling their wrecked cars out of lakes and ditches. The work that Horatio did seemed exciting and new and he wanted in on the action.

He'd put himself through night school to get the required qualifications and had turned up at the Lab fully expecting the Lieutenant to go back on his word but was pleasantly surprised when the man not only recognised him but also offered him a place on his team. For the first year or so he simply stood back and watched as Horatio and his team of investigators taught this young Cuban immigrant the ropes. He kept his eyes wide open and his ears trained, picking up on every sliver of information he could glean from watching his more experienced colleagues go about their work.

His friendship with Horatio had been a natural progression throughout the years as they grew closer to the point where he realised that he would have done anything to help the other man. He cared about and respected him a great deal and had become used to the attention and praise that his superior would bestow upon on him. There were few times when Horatio would ever take him to one side and admonish his actions, some of which were foolhardy in the least. Horatio had cut him a great deal of slack over the years, perhaps more than he should of. Was that why he'd felt as if he were untouchable in the Lab and that he worked to a different set of rules than they did?

Ryan had told him on several occasions that he'd acted as if he were the teacher's pet and that he could get away with things that the others couldn't. How many times had Horatio put himself on the line to cover his back?

Although both of them had been angry, Ryan was right when he told him the other day that Horatio would cut him more slack than most. There had been instances when he'd got himself into stupid situations only for the Lieutenant to come riding to his rescue, and what had he done to repay the other man's faith in him?

He'd let him down, made Horatio disappointed in him, but now was not the time to sit and sulk about it, now was the time to build bridges and mend the fences that he'd left broken for far too long. He knew he would have a long way to go to make things right with the rest of the team, but he owed it to Ryan to start with him first.

He heard movement behind him as he looked over his shoulder and smiled. "Hey, I'm glad you came."

* * *

He'd lost track of time, sat in the kitchen next to his beautiful lover, his mind valiantly trying to cope with the number of issues that were swirling around like trash caught in a cyclone. When the dust finally settled, how would things lie?

"Horatio, talk to me."

Calleigh's worried voice permeated the haziness in his brain as his eyes searched hers, looking for the answers he so desperately needed. He knew what he had to do, but his reluctance to hurt her kept him from wanting to tell her what she needed to know, what he owed it to her to tell her.

"Sweetheart," he began, his chair scraped along the floor as he dragged it closer to where she was sitting. "Sweetheart, I have to do something…..something that you might not like but I don't want you to worry, ok?"

Her eyes widened in alarm, whether he realised it or not, he was beginning to sound more like the old Horatio by the hour. The way he spoke to her was the way that he talked to people when he tried to reassure them, after which he would go off on some one-man crusade to save the city. She didn't like the tone of his voice and it showed in the way she looked at him, the anxiety clear to see on her face.

Her eyes travelled to her own hands as he gently picked them up and gave them a light squeeze. "When I meet with Laura tomorrow…I might be gone for a while, you might not be able to contact me during that time. I want you to know that my heart belongs to you, no one else, ok?"

But was that really the truth, was he really that sure of his feelings for Calleigh, could anyone ever really be sure that meeting up with an old flame would not bring back the passionate feelings they once felt for them?

Would meeting up with Lori be akin to opening up Pandora's Box, would things return to the way there were before, or would he be left in a greater state of confusion than he already was?

Being unsure of himself was not a feeling he particularly enjoyed, yet he found himself once again caught between a rock and a hard place. It had been made perfectly clear to him that he would not be able to move on with his life without laying the ghosts of his past to rest, by the same token, he knew that to reopen those wounds would bring a multitude of memories and emotions flooding back with them. It was the perfect Catch-22 situation, in order to have any hope of sustaining a relationship with Calleigh he would have to risk everything they had slowly built together to assure them both that his past was just that, she would need to have faith in him like she'd never had before.

* * *

"What's this about, Delko?"

The surly way in which Ryan spoke to him, as he sat down in the corner booth that Eric was currently ensconced in, left the Cuban in no doubt that his colleague was not going to make this easy for him.

"Ryan….." he began, not really sure how to continue. "I'm glad you came…..I wanted to clear the air and set a few things straight between us."

Ryan's eyes narrowed as he looked at the other man warily. "I've already told you, I didn't say anything to IAB and I'm not planning to either." He crossed his arms over his chest as if to emphasise the point.

"I know, I know…..I actually came here to apologise, Ryan."

Years under the watchful eye of Horatio had taught Ryan not to be fooled by first impressions as he kept his guard up, suspicious as to Eric's intentions. "You have?"

Eric gave him a humourless smirk. "Yeah I have. I was out of line the other day, Ryan. I want to let you know that I'm sorry."

"Why the change of heart?"

Eric winced noticeably. "Let's just say that someone put me straight about a few things."

"Oh yeah, who?" Ryan asked as he smirked, already having a good idea as to who it might have been, having had a visit from the very same person recently.

"Someone a lot smarter and wiser than the pair of us put together."

The two men smiled at each other as they felt the anger they held towards each other slowly drain away. The last six months had been tough on everyone, all of them victims of the Malucci's and their cruel games, in one way or another. They had all suffered through Horatio's ordeal, none of them coming through it completely unscathed.

The team, as a whole, had so many good times together, Horatio had been able to bring them together as family and that was how they all saw one another. When had those familial feelings served to turn them against each other?

Sure, he and Eric had their differences in the past, often scrapping like two brothers, fighting over girls or bragging rights in the Lab. Their arguments were usually short-lived, the pair of them invariably making peace with each other by the end of the shift. There had been personality clashes and professional disagreements, but Ryan felt as if he and Eric had always rubbed along together pretty well.

The incident at the warehouse had been a shock for all those involved, no more than Horatio himself. Neither Eric nor he himself had dealt with the situation particularly well, they should have been united in their support for their superior, but had only pulled the team further apart with their fighting.

Once the shock of Horatio hesitating had ebbed away, and he'd sat at the poker table gambling away his money, did he realise that he was no better than the Lieutenant. His mind turned back to the time several years ago when he and Horatio had followed a SWAT team into an abandoned warehouse on the search for stolen cars. After wounding and apprehending one suspect, he turned his head at the sound of movement and was confronted with another of the carjackers no more than eight feet away from him, brandishing what looked like a machine gun.

Time slowed as he stared down the long barrel of the gun, he was in position and ready to fire his own weapon, yet no matter how hard he tried he was unable to squeeze the trigger. If it had not been for Horatio's stealthy presence he would surely have died, the Lieutenant took the shot and felled the gunman instantly; kicking the man's weapon away even though it was clear that he was dead.

He'd tried to explain himself to Horatio, only managing a few words before the other man spoke for him. "You didn't have a clear shot, understood?"

"H…I…." he began, before being cut off again.

"You did _not_ have a clear shot, Mr Wolfe. _Understood?_"

Horatio's instructions were clear; he knew that even though he had frozen that his superior would back him to the hilt. Horatio had lied in his IAB interview about the shooting and had made it perfectly clear that it was imperative that he towed the party line too.

He felt like such an ass for not cutting Horatio the same slack that the man had for him. After everything that Horatio had done for him, he had seriously considered selling him out to Internal Affairs, convincing himself that he would have done it for the good of the team.

Perhaps Horatio's ordeal had affected him more than he realised, were the whole team so emotionally involved in what had happened to the Lieutenant that they could no longer judge things clearly when it came to him?

Eric took a swig of his beer, drying his palm off before reaching across the table and holding his hand out. "I say that we put this behind us and concentrate on what's important, deal?"

"Sounds good, Eric." Ryan smiled warmly.

Their hands clasped together tightly as they shook, the promise of a new start in their friendship after a fractious few months, a sign of forgiveness and acceptance, from one good man to another.

* * *

He'd spent the evening holding her, keeping her close as if to prove to himself that his feelings for her were real. Of course they were, he'd known for months that Calleigh was a precious gift that he'd been granted. The trouble was that he'd spent so long consumed with his own negativity that he'd failed to realise what had been staring him the face for so long.

He knew he loved her, he had for years. Time, circumstance and a sense of duty had always kept him at a distance from her. How many times had he wanted to take her in his arms after another of her relationships had ended in disaster or heartbreak?

How many times had he seen her leave the Lab with her latest boyfriend, wishing it was him with his arm around her and not them?

There had been times when the urge to confess how he really felt about her would almost become more than he could bear. He would stride along to the ballistics lab, intent on telling her that he was the only man for her, only to be stopped in his tracks by his own sense of nobility and duty.

Time had moved so quickly, and served to make him much more reluctant to reveal how he really felt about her, she would haunt his dreams, in a good way, teasing him with a life he could never have. How many times had he dreamt of having him in her arms, loving her and waking up to her beaming smile each morning?

And so he'd made do with the dreams, taking whatever small part of her he could, the fact that none of it was real was of no consequence, in his fantasies she was his, no one else's. Things had slowly started to change, had he been fooling himself when he began to suspect that she might be taking an interest in him too?

There had been a number of moments in the Lab when he would catch her looking at him, was he mistaken when he told himself that her interest in him was no longer just professional?

Their flirty banter had returned, the cajoling that they'd both enjoyed when they first met. She'd begun to slip the word 'handsome' into their conversations and he hadn't failed to notice the knowing smiles she would give him when no one else was around.

They'd been dancing around the idea of exploring their feelings for each other when everything came crashing down around them. No longer was he Horatio Caine, everything he had said and done as that man had gone, vanished from his memory and replaced with his past life in New York. With those old memories came the emotions attached to them, suddenly everything old was new again.

He'd had no idea who Calleigh was when he'd first woken up in the hospital, and had been convinced that he was still John Kelly, a detective in the NYPD. Even though he had no clue who she was, he knew instinctively that he felt something for her, she had told him that they were work colleagues and friends, yet he knew his feelings for her ran much deeper than that.

All through those first few weeks he had felt himself being drawn to her like a moth to a flame, unable to resist her. Had he fallen in love with her whilst still believing he was John Kelly?

It didn't seem to make much difference in the end, when he had woken in the hospital for the second time he felt exactly the same way about her, or at least he thought he did. The first few weeks in the hospital were nothing more than a jumbled blur of sights and sounds, hazy faces would lean over him and whisper soothing words in his ears. They might as well have been talking to him in Chinese for all that he understood of what they were saying to him.

She had once again been his constant, spending more time than was probably healthy for her at the hospital, shaking him from the nightmares that tormented him and holding him close when his despair at his lack of control over his own body ate away at him. He hadn't realised it at the time, but he'd actually looked forward to the times that she would visit him in the hospital, ducking out between shifts and call-outs to check on him.

He probably hadn't shown her how grateful he was at the time, more often than not, she'd borne the brunt of his anger as he grew increasingly bitter at his own body's frailties. He wanted her to see him as strong and virile, not some weakened old man who needed to be treated like a child.

Maybe that was why he'd been so angry at her yesterday; she'd taken it upon herself to try to fix his life for him. Lying to Sargent Craig had been one thing, but to insist that Simon accompany him to his scheduled interview with IAB had been a step too far. He didn't want or need a mother, he wanted a lover who respected him enough to allow him to stand on his own two feet and take responsibility for his own actions. When all was said and done with Lori, the next item on the agenda would be to have a full and frank discussion with Calleigh about where they both stood.

That discussion could wait for another day, he was simply too tired after the week from Hell to contemplate getting involved in such a long and wearying conversation with her. Right now, he wanted to feel her body next to his and attempt to convey the love he felt for her intimately.

He watched her as he sat on the bed, brushing her teeth by the sink in the en-suite bathroom in nothing but one of his old t-shirts, the way her right leg bent at the knee, revealing her tempting thighs, hypnotised him as he heard her humming a tune, completely oblivious to the fact that she was being watched.

Or so he thought, without turning she called out to him. "Are you going to sit there and leer at me all night?"

His cheeks flamed with embarrassment as he realised he'd been caught gawping at her. "What would you rather I do?" he asked after clearing his throat.

"I was hoping you'd help me out in here," she teased as she looked at him briefly, licking her lips.

That was all the invitation he'd needed, pulling his t-shirt and pants off he joined her in the bathroom, placing his hands on her waist and gently turning her to look at him. "Where should I start?" he asked in a low and sultry voice as she bent her head to the right to expose her neck.

"I was thinking right here."

His eyes followed the direction of her finger, bending down he placed feather-light kisses on her flesh, smiling to himself as the area pimpled in reaction to his ministrations. Her groans of pleasure told him that he was on the right track as he kissed her jaw and ear before making his way to her mouth, pushing her up against the sink as he attempted to show her just how much he wanted and needed her right now.

Her fingers raked over his bare back and she felt her desire grow when he hissed in pleasure and thrusted his hips towards her, she could feel then how much he wanted to be with her. Gone was the tentative and hesitant Horatio of before, he'd been replaced with a man who obviously knew what he was doing when it came to the giving and receiving of pleasure.

Before she lost her senses completely, she made a mental note to send Dr Jeff some kind of thank you gift, whatever the man had said to Horatio, it seemed to be working. He'd taken some huge strides forward these last few days, and it seemed as if he were slowly emerging from the carnage that his life had become and was beginning to regain some sense of normality and stability.

Her last conscious thought was that little by little, the man she loved was returning, something she would never take for granted again. He made short work of the t-shirt she was wearing and had taken her by surprise as they once again became one, her eyes closing in complete ecstasy as he showed her just how very special she was to him. His movements were firm and assured as he once again drove her wild with desire.

She was his and he was hers, no one else's.


	57. Chapter 57

After their pleasurable little interlude in the bathroom, they had somehow made their way back to the bedroom where Horatio had shown her again that his physical strength and mental fortitude were increasing by the day. They'd both fallen into an exhausted yet contented sleep as they lay on their sides facing each other, arms and legs entwined.

She wasn't sure why, but something had caused her to awaken from the pleasurable dream she was having. She opened her eyes slowly and watched Horatio sleep, a small smile on his face. It occurred to her how lucky she was to have him in her arms, Horatio was a man who rarely let his guard down around anyone, choosing to keep a portion of his heart locked away, the past serving to teach him that nothing good could come of baring your soul to another.

Yet here he was in her bed, their bodies wrapped together, she revelled in the feel of him next to her. It was with a sense of fascination that she watched his eyebrows twitch every so often, caught in what she hoped was a gratifying dream world.

As if sensing that he was being watched, he opened his eyes and found Calleigh's beautiful green orbs gazing lovingly at him. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked in a rough voice as he tightened his hold on her.

She gave him a bashful smile. "I guess not. Go back to sleep."

He frowned at her. "Not until you do."

"Horatio, you're going to have a long day tomorrow. You need to rest; I just want to watch over you for a little while, ok?"

He didn't like the thought of Calleigh feeling so troubled that she couldn't sleep. He'd hoped that he'd set her mind at ease earlier as they'd made love, obviously it hadn't been enough. He couldn't really blame her though; she'd sat and watched him guardedly as he'd made the call to Lori earlier in the evening.

* * *

She knew that they couldn't keep up the awkward and stilted conversation all night, her only hope was that after he'd made the call that he would be able to spend the rest of the evening concentrating on his present and the connection they had together.

She thrust the phone into his hand, "Call her and arrange to meet," she instructed him quietly.

He looked for the entire world as if that was the last thing he wanted to do, he eyed the phone suspiciously before taking it from her and pulling the roughly folded piece of paper out of his pants pocket. He carefully dialled the number and waited for her to pick up, his eyes never leaving Calleigh.

"Hello?" a stern voice answered suspiciously.

"Lori…it's...uh...John."

"I didn't think you'd call me after you ran out on me earlier. It's late, what do you want?"

He sighed, knowing that his ex-wife was hardly going to make things easy for him. She had been furious when she first came face to face with him, her anger soon died when she saw what had been done to him though. He'd found himself getting lost in her warm embrace until Calleigh had barged through his front door and surprised the pair of them.

His treatment of Lori afterwards had been cold, he'd dismissed her as his mind was focused on one thing, finding Calleigh and trying to explain his way out of the compromising position he had been found in. After grabbing his shirt, he had told her to leave as if their years together had meant nothing to him.

"You're right, we need to talk….I want you to meet me at my house tomorrow morning."

"What makes you think you have the right to tell me what to do?" she asked aggressively, her pride still stinging from his dismissal earlier.

"Because _you_ came looking for me. You want answers? I'll give you all the answers you want…..tomorrow."

The line went quiet for so long that he'd almost started to think that she'd hung up on him, throwing another one of her fitful moods that he had become so used to when they were together.

"Fine. I'll meet you there 10am," she replied with a huff.

"Looking forward to it," he grumbled as he hung up and looked at Calleigh tiredly.

He was compensated for making such an uncomfortable phone call by his lover sitting in his lap as she captured him with a searing kiss.

"What was that for?" he asked with a smirk after catching his breath.

"Because I love you," she replied, her face deadly serious.

He leaned in for another kiss, only to be stopped by his phone ringing again. He growled as he flipped it open to check the display, fully expecting it to be Lori. His eyes widened as he saw whose number it was.

"It's Andy," he said by way of explanation as he extricated himself from her embrace. "I need to answer this, it might be important."

Although disappointed, she nodded her head and allowed him to rise from the couch, her fingers running over her lips, feeling the blissful swelling and tingling sensation that came with being kissed so thoroughly.

He walked out into the hallway and answered the call.

"John, I'm glad I've caught you. Listen…..there's something you need to know."

"If it's about Lori you're too late."

"Shit. How come?"

"She found out where I lived and came looking for me yesterday."

"Yeesh, how'd that work out?" the older man replied as his teeth clenched in sympathy for his old friend.

"Not good."

Andy smiled to himself, if there was one thing that had changed about the man that he knew, it was his ability to be a master of the understatement. The passing of years had served to make his former partner much more careful about the words he chose; making sure he never gave away more than was strictly necessary.

He wondered where on earth John had learnt such control and restraint, the man he used to know was as eager as a puppy chasing a ball on a warm spring day, all gangly arms and legs and wide eyes.

With each day that John had recovered his physical strength, he could feel the man distance himself again, attempting to rebuild the carefully structured walls that he had placed around his heart and mind to protect himself.

John had become something of an illusionist, only showing people what he wanted them to see, fooling them into believing he was someone that he wasn't. It might have worked for his group of colleagues, but he knew John too well to be taken in by his stoic responses and the stiff upper lip act that he felt compelled to put on for the sake of others.

"So did you talk?" Andy asked after an interminably long silence.

"We didn't get much of a chance to speak at any great length."

Damn John and his cryptic answers, why didn't the man just spit it out and stop being so evasive?

"But you're going to?" Andy questioned, feeling as if he were interrogating a suspect and not his friend. He heard the dramatic sigh from the other end of the line and allowed a small smile to cross his features.

"Tomorrow morning. My therapist says that I need to come to terms with the past before I can move on with the present."

The way that John had said the word 'therapist' had made it sound as if he thought the word were dirty.

"I take it your therapist has never met Laura then?" he retorted quickly with a small chuckle.

"No he hasn't," was the succinct reply as the younger man refused to rise to the teasing.

"Tell you what, kid. I'll call you tomorrow evening and make sure you're still in one piece. If I get no answer I'll send out the search parties, deal?"

This time he managed to raise a small laugh from the other man. "Sounds good, Andy."

* * *

He had tried closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep but found himself unable to. Reaching out a hesitant hand, he tucked and errant lock of hair behind Calleigh's ear, his hand working its way back down her face as she looked at him with tears in her eyes.

"What's the matter, Sweetheart?" he asked as he wiped the tears away with his thumb. He watched her bottom lip tremble as she tried valiantly to keep her emotions in check. "Talk to me…..you're starting to scare me, Calleigh."

Could she really be honest and tell him what had been eating away at her since she'd caught the pair of them in such an intimate embrace yesterday?

"It's nothing really."

He wasn't fooled by her poor attempts to cover what was obviously bothering her. "Calleigh, talk to me…..please."

She took a shaky breath. "When I came to your house yesterday and saw….saw you and her…."

He jumped in before she could say the words he was dreading to hear. "I told you…..it's not what it looked like, you have to believe me."

She couldn't deny the sincerity of his words or the desperate look on his face. Maybe, as far as he was concerned, there was nothing left between him and his ex-wife. The way that Laura looked at him told a completely different story.

She had to make him see though, they had to be honest with each other, surely that lesson had been taught to them several times over judging by the horrendous few months they had endured together.

"The way she looked at you when she held you…that's the way you look at me."

He frowned in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand."

She took a deep breath and tried to articulate her fears more clearly to him. "When you look at me…..I can see how much I mean to you, how much you love me. She looked at you like that yesterday."

"Calleigh, my marriage to Laura was a long time ago. I promise you that I don't feel that way towards her anymore."

Was that the truth, was he that sure of his feelings for Calleigh?

"But she does. Can't you see that's why she's come here?"

For an intelligent man, Horatio Caine could be extraordinarily naïve at times, especially when it came to matters of the heart, his in particular. He looked at Calleigh blankly, still not understanding what it was that she was trying to get at.

"I'm worried that she wants you back, Horatio!" Her voice rose in frustration, causing Moses to jerk awake and scarper from his place at the end of the bed.

He looked at her with eyes open wide, shocked by the ferocity of her outburst. He kissed her gently on the lips, trying to soothe the rising sense of panic that was flowing through her, causing her breathing to increase and small shudders to wrack her body.

"It's not going to happen, Calleigh. I promise you," he tried to reassure her.

"What if after everything that's happened you suddenly realise that you still love her too. I mean it's not like you can just turn those feelings off. You loved her once…..what happens if you find out you love her still?"

"It's not going to happen," he repeated softly.

"But how do you know that?"

"Because I know that I love you. Calleigh….you've stood by me through all of this, even when I tried to push you away. I know I don't always show it…but you mean the world to me and if I have to spend every day reminding you of that fact then I will." He smiled at her and planted a soft kiss on her forehead as his hand travelled up and down her head and face, stroking her beautiful skin gently. "Please trust me, Sweetheart….I have to know that you trust me to do this, I won't go through with it if you don't."

What a horrible situation to be stuck in, she thought. She knew deep down inside of herself that he needed to meet with Laura, he needed to come to terms with his murky past in order to move forward. Although it hurt her to think of Horatio spending the day with a woman who obviously had amorous intentions towards him, she knew that she had to let him do it. She had to trust him to do the right thing and not be fooled by Laura's attempts to wheedle her way back into his affections.

Although he'd made some huge strides in his emotional recovery the last few days, she was well aware that he was still emotionally vulnerable. Trying to piece the two fractured halves of his life back together was no easy task, there was still so much that left him confused and unsure of himself and the emotions that he felt. Would meeting up with Laura end up confusing him even more?

"It's not you that I don't trust," she murmured quietly as her eyes closed, his ministrations calming her racing heart. "I don't trust her or her intentions towards you."

He let out a small laugh at that. "I'm a big boy now; I think I can look after myself."

"Can you though?" she responded, no hint of humour in her own voice.

The uncertain expression on her face caused him to frown again. "Calleigh…..you have to stop trying to protect me. I don't need you fighting my battles for me anymore."

"I…..I can't help it. After everything they did to you…..I couldn't protect you from those animals…..they hurt you," she finished quietly, not willing to look him in the eyes.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he did so, trying to work out in his mind how he could convey the feeling of suffocation that shrouded him each time she tried to take control of his life. God knows that he didn't want to hurt her with a few carelessly chosen words, but he had to make it clear to her that her irrational need to protect him from anything she saw as a threat had to stop.

"You can't wrap me up in cotton wool, Calleigh. Sometimes bad things happen, things that we have no control over…I appreciate everything that you've done for me these last few months but you have to let me take responsibility for my own actions. I love you, but you have to start treating me as an equal and not like I'm someone who needs to be taken care of constantly." He smiled at her, as if that would soothe any harshness she might have felt from his words.

"But you're always the one looking after everyone else, who takes care of you?" she countered as she finally raised her gaze to look at him, searching the lines around his eyes and mouth.

He raised his free arm and cupped the side of her face again as he kissed her cheek. "You asked me to talk to someone and I have…..things are getting back on track and I can't get back to where I was unless you stop pulling the rug out from under my feet. I have to know where I stand with you, Calleigh. You have to let me make my own choices…..whether you agree with them or not."

Deep down in her heart she knew he was right. Perhaps she had gone way overboard with her need to protect him, but after all they had been through was it any surprise?

* * *

**Flashback. Miami, 1 week ago:**

Perhaps it was his inherently stubborn nature or just the fact that he had a set goal to achieve, but the physical therapy sessions were going well she thought as she watched Horatio get physically stronger by the day to the point that even Alexx was surprised, but pleased, about his continued positive progress.

He'd told her that he wanted to take the Department physical assessment within the next few days so that he could return to his position at the Crime Lab. She thought it far too soon for him to go back, although his wounds had healed the scars were still red and raw and she was fully aware that his left arm and his ribs were still giving him a certain amount of discomfort.

Alexx had also not been best pleased to hear of his plans to take the physical but both knew that it was impossible to dissuade Horatio when he had made up his mind. At least it had put a spring in his step for the last few days, as he rose early and went for long walks along the beach before returning for breakfast and his subsequent session with the physical therapist. Still, she wondered about his state of mind, there had been several times in the hospital where he had visibly jolted at the sound of shouting or some object or another crashing to the floor with a loud clang. The beachfront connected to her house was private and for the local resident's use only and so she felt relaxed when he went out there alone, no longer feeling the need to follow him every step of the way.

As hard as she found it, she knew that she needed to give him a little space. He'd spent far too long being cooped up indoors and relying on other people to stay with him to meet his physical needs to the point where he was finding it suffocating. He wouldn't thank her for fussing over him like a mother hen and would only draw away further from her if she tried.

She let out a small sigh of relief as he opened the sliding patio door and walk into the kitchen as he greeted her with a small smile.

"Good morning, Calleigh."

"Hi, how did you sleep?"

She could have smacked herself in the head for asking such a redundant question, she knew full well that returning to the Crime Lab was playing on Horatio's mind and causing his already disturbed dreams to worsen. Three times he had woken up during the night, panting and sweating profusely before melting into her arms as she held him and soothed him back to sleep.

She didn't need to ask what the dreams about, it was clear enough from the words she'd heard him mumble in his unconscious state. She knew that he wouldn't want to talk about it either, he'd much rather brush over it and lock it away in some far recess of his mind, never to be thought of or spoken about again.

He didn't answer her question and instead informed her of a call he'd taken while walking out on the beach. "My physical has been booked for Wednesday."

Her face must have registered her shock as he gave her a sharp glare before making his way to the fridge to retrieve a cold bottle of water.

"Don't you think it's too soon?" she asked, expecting the answer before he actually gave it to her.

"Calleigh, I've finished the physical therapy sessions. I don't see any reason not to return to the Lab…..Besides; I'm getting fed up being cooped up all day." He gave her a half smile as he sat down at the wooden table and felt Moses wind his way through his legs.

"But the dreams…..are you sure you're ready to go back. I mean…..it's stressful, are you sure you can deal with that?"

The colour drained from his face, did she think that he was that weak that he couldn't handle his job anymore, was he really that much less of a man than the one she knew before all of this madness had started?

"I'm fine; I don't need you or anyone else worrying about me, why can't you all just back off!"

His verbal outburst took her by surprise as he let out a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself down. He knew that they meant well, but their constant hovering was eating away at what little pride and self-respect that he had left. Did they really think he was that weak and needy that he required their constant protection?

He felt as if he were being treated like a child or some kind of old man, was that how she saw him, did their kiss the other week mean nothing to her, was it just a mistake?

How could she possibly be attracted to a worn, scarred and aging man like him?

He was hardly in the first flushes of youth anymore, Calleigh deserved a man who was young and vital, a man that wasn't constantly looking over his shoulder or jumping at his own shadow. She had kissed him and what had he done? He'd run away like a cowardly child, unable to deal with the confusing emotions that her touch had brought.

No, she couldn't possibly be attracted to a man like him; he had too much emotional baggage attached to him. She would make sure he had recovered, got back on his feet and would then ask him to return to his own house so that she could carry on with her life, finding herself a man that was more worthy of her.

He'd miss having her to hold in his bed that was for sure. He wasn't quite sure how they'd fallen into the routine that they had, but he was glad that they did. Each time that he had woken up gasping or screaming she had been there to take him in her arms and hold him until he fell back into a dreamless sleep. What would happen when she was no longer there to keep the demons at bay?

Would he be able to deal with it on his own?

God, everything was so messed up. How could things have ended up like this?

With little thought, he marched towards Calleigh and planted a desperate kiss on her lips, risking everything to find out if she really did have any genuine feelings of love towards him. He clasped her face in his hands as he continued to kiss her and felt relief wash over him as she responded in kind and only broke away when he needed to gulp air into his lungs.

He took a step back and looked at her, his breathing heavy as he watched her touch her lips in a state of shock. As the adrenaline drained away, he seemed to come back to reality and with it came the crushing sense of disappointment as he convinced himself that she couldn't possibly want someone like him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he touched his own lips before shaking his head and rushing from the room.

"Horatio, wait," she pleaded but it was already too late, he was gone.


	58. Chapter 58

**Miami. Present day:**

He'd rose early, kissed Calleigh goodbye and assured her that he would return later in the day, praying to God that she would not spend the whole time worrying about him. Her shocking confession in the early hours of the morning had taken him by surprise. He had been so used to the being the one that felt insecure that it came as a bolt from the blue that she was so consumed with fear that he would not return to her side, so much so that it was affecting her ability to sleep.

He'd tried to reassure her before he left, yet he could see that look in her eyes, the one that told him that she was hurting but trying not to show it. He was hurting her by meeting up with Lori, he knew that, yet he also knew that he had no choice. He had to meet with her to set things straight.

It was with a sense of some trepidation that he'd driven to the local store and purchased coffee, milk and a few other random bits and pieces that might be required during what he suspected would be a long and emotional day, anticipating his ex-wife's needs as always. When they'd been married he always feared getting on the wrong side of her, she could be particularly nasty after a hard day or one too many drinks.

He wasn't scared of her, more wary of the cruel words that might possibly spill from her mouth in one of her frequent bouts of anger. As much as he'd liked to portray an image of being a strong man, when they were married he loved her to the point where it was only natural that her words would sting when she saw fit to berate him for one thing or another.

He could certainly stand up to her, knowing that he was no shrinking wallflower himself, yet the common decency in him prevented the same harsh words spilling unbidden from his own lips. He would not hurt her simply because she had cut him to the bone with one of her scathing remarks; he would take them on the chin and attempt to reason with her instead. It was a rule that he had lived by in both of his lives, two wrongs had never made a right, he would not be dragged down to someone else's level simply to get back at them. Sometimes it was just best to turn the other cheek and walk away.

He sat at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of freshly brewed coffee, wincing slightly as the bitter-tasting liquid hit the back of his throat and provided him with the jolt of energy he'd need to sustain him for the next hour or so at least. Why had she come to Miami to find him and why now?

What was it that she was looking for, did she expect him to apologise, or had she come looking for her own sense of forgiveness?

Whatever it was, he just wanted to get it over and done with, to push it to one side and get on with what was left of his life.

The doorbell chimed and after a quick glance at his watch he made his way to the front door, opening it and motioning for her to enter.

"Lori, thank you for coming," he said as he walked her through to the kitchen and poured her a mug of coffee before setting it on the opposite side of the table to where he sat back down.

"I thought you were going to ignore me after what happened last time," she huffed as she placed her purse down and made herself comfortable at the table. "Who was that woman anyway?"

He took a deep breath before responding, resigned to the fact that she would likely not react well to what he was about to tell her. "That was Calleigh, she's my….."

"Girlfriend?" she cut in before he could finish speaking.

He nodded his head and looked down at the table, waiting for some scathing remark to fall from her ruby red lips.

"I thought you liked brunettes," she muttered after a while. "How'd you meet her?"

"At work…..she's part of my team."

She pursed her lips and gave him a dirty look, making it clear by body language alone what she thought about his dalliance with a colleague. Did the man never learn?

"Andy told me about what you do down here."

"I take it that Andy told you a lot of things the last time you saw him?"

"Yes, he did."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 14 weeks ago:**

There was an insistent knocking at her door as she attempted to fold the last of the laundry that she'd spent the afternoon working on. This was the part of being a divorced mother of two that really dragged. Her son and daughter were both away at college but had returned for a week's break and left piles of dirty clothes in their wake.

Being a mother was not something that came naturally to her, she had struggled at several points during her offspring's childhood years, always seemingly clashing with her feisty young daughter who appeared to take after her when it came to being strong-willed and stubborn.

It wasn't that she didn't love them, of course she did, they were her children and she would give her life to protect them. It didn't help that her mother was not a particularly good role model for her, the woman was driven by her career and it was only when her own children had reached school age that she realised that she was turning out in exactly the same way as her.

She'd married Danny and started a family with him, desperate to rid herself of the memories of John and the trail of destruction that he'd left in his wake. She fooled herself into believing that Danny was better for her, his choice of career as a paediatric physician was certainly much safer than that of a detective who worked on the mean streets of New York.

She fell pregnant with Megan first and struggled to bond with her new born baby, the crying, the constant changing of nappies and the sleepless nights became almost more than she could bear at times. Danny had taken to parenthood much more easily than she had and she felt a growing resentment towards him that he had such an effortless bond with his daughter.

Of course it was easier for him, he wasn't the one getting up in the middle of the night to feed and change the baby, he always cited the reason that he had to be fresh for his shift in the morning and told her that at least she would have the opportunity to catch up on her rest during the day.

Did he naïvely believe that babies stopped crying and needing attention during the day?

Newborn babies required round the clock care and attention and after only a few months she told her husband that she couldn't cope on her own anymore. Conceiving Megan had been a complete accident, Danny had convinced her to keep the child and she had reluctantly agreed, hoping it would bring them closer together as a couple and heal the wounds that John's death had left her with.

She had been working at a private law firm at the time and worked up until her eighth month of pregnancy before taking her maternity leave. Every day that she spent at home nursing a baby was another day that she fell behind the other associates that worked at the firm, she knew that if she didn't return to her position soon that she would be left in the wake of her colleagues, all of whom didn't have any family ties to hold them back for putting the required hours in to make junior partner.

Danny earned good money as a doctor; they had more than enough disposable income to employ a nanny to take care of Megan so that she could return to work and the career that she had worked so hard to build for herself.

It had worked for a while, kissing Megan goodbye in the mornings before she left and putting her to bed at night worked well. Each time that she felt a pang of guilt for missing her first child's achievements she would tell herself that she was doing it to build a better life for her family, creating a legacy that they could inherit.

Promotions and pay rises would never bring back those missed moments when Megan took her first steps or said her first words; all of those milestones were witnessed by the nanny who looked after her instead. She'd been given a second chance when she fell pregnant again almost eighteen months later, this time having a boy.

Aaron was a bounding bundle of joy from the moment he had been born, but still the urge to be a stay at home mother never gripped her like it did other women, after three months of maternity leave she was keen to return to her job as a lawyer, a decision that Danny did not agree with.

The fights had begun shortly after she had returned to work, her husband could not understand why she did not want to be a kept woman, staying at home to raise the children while he as the man of the house went out and earned the money. She had never been brought up that way, her mother had been more concerned about her career than her children and made it clear to both her and her brother, Max, where her priorities lay. She'd inherited her mother's desire to go out into the world of work and earn her own way, cutting her own path in her chosen career field.

She found the idea of staying at home and living off of her husband's earnings offensive, was he no better than John, the man who wanted to wrap her up in cotton wool and protect her from the big, bad world outside?

It came as somewhat of a shock then, that the man standing outside her door now reminded her again of the man that she had loved and lost so many years ago.

She stood and stared at him for a number of moments as he stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"You gonna let me in?" he finally asked as he looked left and right, checking the street. For what, he didn't know, it just happened to be a habit from his time as a cop that made him do it. Just because he'd retired it didn't mean that he could break the daily routines he'd formed years ago.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him suspiciously, blocking entrance to her two-storey house that she had been awarded in her divorce settlement from Danny.

"There's something you need to know, Laura. I'd rather not do it on your door step if you don't mind."

The first thoughts to cross her mind were that Andy had come to tell her that something had happened to Megan or Aaron. She quickly dismissed that thought, remembering that Andy had been retired for years. If something had happened to one of them it would have been a uniformed officer at her door instead.

She was fed up and tired after a long afternoon of doing house chores, perhaps a visit from Andy would help break the monotony of the day.

"Sure, come in."

He nodded his thanks and made his way into her kitchen, fiddling with the sides of his summer jacket that he was wearing, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. How the hell was he going to explain the fact that John was still alive?

"You…..uh…..you got any coffee?" he asked, trying to delay the inevitable.

His mind shot back to another time when he had visited Laura to deliver the bad news that her ex-husband's burnt and mutilated corpse had been found down by the East River. The conversation that they'd had was hard on both of them, he knew she had put on a brave face as he told her and was under no illusion that she had broken down in tears the minute he left her apartment. Laura was a strong woman who pretended that things didn't bother her; there were very few people that would be allowed to see the vulnerable and emotional woman that lurked underneath.

She placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and sat opposite, looking at him searchingly. "It's not that I'm unhappy that you've decided to come visit me, Andy, but why now? I haven't seen you in years."

"I know, I'm sorry. It's just with Theo growing up and heading to college…..time kind of got away from me."

"So is this a social visit?"

He blew on his coffee and took a sip before answering. "I wish it was, believe me. There's something you need to know…..about John."

The mere mention of his name caused her to freeze momentarily in shock. It had been such a long time since she had heard his name, let alone not thought of him in vain. John Kelly, a man who stole her heart, a man who betrayed his oath as a police officer and died no better than a petty criminal.

It still hurt to think of him and the things he'd done, as the years went by it became easier not to think about him every day. There were still times when he did cross her mind, but those days were few and far between now. The thought of his broken and burnt body had been too much for her to bear, it was easier to place those thoughts somewhere deep in the back of her mind where they would not haunt her on such a regular basis.

"If you've come to tell me of something else he did back then I don't want to know. I'd rather not think about him at all."

He rubbed a pudgy hand over his face and straightened his moustache, still feeling the effects of the flight from Miami to JFK airport that he'd just taken. "Laura, you need to know…John's still alive."

That was not what she had expected him to say, in fact it was the last thing she would have expected him to tell her. John Kelly was dead and buried, she was sure of it, she had gone to his funeral for God's sake. Andy had been the one to tell her that he'd been murdered way back in 1996. It didn't make any sense that Andy would turn up on her doorstep and tell her that John was still alive, had the man returned to his old ways and started drinking again?

She appeared to have zoned out, judging by the blank look on her face as she sat staring at him, dumbfounded. "Laura, did you hear what I just said? John's alive."

"No…..you're lying. That or you're drunk."

He could have retorted with a spiteful comment of his own to her last words, but decided to cut her a little slack. It wasn't as if he'd reacted well when he first heard the news either, at least he'd had a few weeks to process it though.

There would be no way that Laura would believe him without some sort of proof. He pulled out his cell phone and brought up a page from the Miami Herald online newspaper, in the centre of the page was a photograph of the man they both used to know.

She grabbed the phone roughly from his hand and stared at it, the man certainly looked like John, older but with the same hair and build that she remembered. "This isn't John," she said dismissively as she handed him the phone back.

"It is, Laura."

She shook her head and took a sip of coffee, her heart beating wildly at seeing a picture that looked like the man she used to know, the man she had loved and lost. "It says his name is Horatio. What kind of name is that?" she asked more to herself than anything.

"It's a long story, but I swear on Theo's life that the man in that picture is John."

"I don't understand…..it's impossible. John is dead."

"It's a long story," he began as he fidgeted awkwardly on the wooden chair.

"Start explaining then."

It had taken him hours to divulge the secret life of the man she used to be married to, there were times when he felt awful as he saw the tears in her eyes as he told her of the things John had done back in those dark days in New York. There were a few moments when he found it hard to speak himself, his voice cracking with emotion as he recounted the horrific few days that John had been at the hands of the Malucci's as they beat him senseless and tortured him to within an inch of his life.

He'd looked more dead than alive when he'd been brought to the hospital, there had been several days where his prognosis looked less than promising and he had only left Miami and returned here to New York when he was confident that John would survive. Even then, his doctor would not be entirely honest with them about his condition, not wishing to tempt fate should he take a turn for the worse. He had to come back; if John died he at least wanted him to die knowing that he was a hero and not the traitor that he had led them all to believe.

"Where is he now?" she asked finally once she'd managed to string a sentence together, the shock of realising that John was still alive had floored her.

"He's in a hospital in Miami. They really did a number on him, Laura; he's not in good shape at the moment."

"Will he be ok?" She might have been furiously angry with him and the double life that he'd apparently led but she still cared about him.

He sighed deeply, none of them were sure if John would ever be the same man again. The man who had regained consciousness did not seem to be the person they all remembered, something had changed inside him.

"They're not sure; they say that there might be some permanent damage."

Her eyes widened in surprise at his words, this was all far too much for her to take in. She needed a drink, something more substantial than coffee. She pulled herself up from the table on shaky legs and made her way over to the wine rack in the corner of the room. She grabbed a glass and uncorked the bottle, momentarily forgetting that she had a recovering alcoholic sitting in her kitchen.

"Andy, I'm sorry. I didn't think," she said as she looked down at the bottle opener in her hands.

He waved away her concern. "Don't worry about it; there were times recently when I could've done with a drink too."

The temptation was certainly there, it had been a harrowing few hours as he told Laura of the reasons why John had committed those crimes and worked for the Malucci organisation. Retelling the complicated story didn't seem to make it any easier to accept though.

But he'd done it; he'd sat and told John's ex-wife of what he had done to protect them all. He'd accomplished what he'd set out to do on his trip back to the city, meetings with the suits at One Police Plaza would seem like a cakewalk in comparison to this.

His chair scraped along the kitchen floor as he raised his bulky frame from it, shrugging his jacket back on, he walked up to her and placed his hands on her elbows. "I'm going to meet with the brass in a few days; there will probably be a bit of a media frenzy about all of this. I wanted you to be the first person to know."

He gave her a brief smile and let himself out, letting out a deep breath as he opened the front door and made his way back down to the street and towards his rented car.

She watched him leave from the window; her world had been turned upside down in only a few short hours. Everything she thought she knew about John had turned out to be nothing more than a lie. She had so many questions, Andy had not been able to answer that many of them and it left her feeling frustrated that she didn't have the full picture.

The only way that she would be able to get the answers she was looking for was by meeting with John face to face, the only problem being that she wasn't even sure that she wanted to see him again, what would happen if she was suddenly confronted with the man that she had presumed dead for nearly two decades?

Age had taught her to not be as impulsive as she was in her youth, with experience came a certain amount of wisdom, the tiny voice in her mind told her that running off to Miami half-cocked would not be a good idea. She needed to be sure that she was ready to reopen the can of worms that her relationship with John was, was she really ready to do that?

She wanted answers though, and she would get them from him, sooner or later.


	59. Chapter 59

**Miami. Present day:**

"I can't tell you how many times that I wanted to pick up the phone and call you just to hear your voice again." His words were low and soft as he stared at a knot in the wooden table that they were sat at.

"Well you could have," she replied in a surly manner, still angered that he had let her believe that he was dead for so long.

He rubbed a hand over his face. "It wasn't that simple….once I left New York...I knew that I would never be able to come back. It was better that you all thought I was dead so that you could move on with your lives."

"Is that what you told yourself when you were enjoying yourself down here in the sun, with your fancy new job and your nice houses?"

Her anger towards him was understandable, but they would not get anywhere with this conversation if she continued on that way.

"I had to leave everything behind, Lori. The life I once knew….I had to make the people I cared about hate me and then I got dumped in some strange city with nothing!"

He willed himself to control his temper; matching Lori in a battle of anger would not do either of them any good. He took a couple of deep breaths as he looked at her, pleading with his eyes for her to understand what a nightmare his life had become in New York.

"Andy told me that they found you here."

He knew instantly what she meant; the second generation of the Malucci family had managed to track him down to Miami and had meted out their own brand of justice on him. Holding him in some abandoned warehouse for days on end, physically abusing him, making him believe that they had killed his son.

He nodded his head and said nothing.

"I was going to come down here the minute he told me but he said that wouldn't be a good idea. They really hurt you didn't they?" Her voice was softer this time as her earlier anger began to dissipate.

He looked up at her briefly and she was shocked to see the pain in his brilliant blue eyes. "I don't really remember that much of it to be honest," he shrugged.

She might not have seen him for the best part of the last twenty years, but she knew him well enough to know when he was lying. She'd been married to him and she was an expert when it came to reading his body language, she knew he remembered much more than he claimed to.

"Andy said that they used your son against you."

She regretted saying it the moment it fell from her mouth as he looked at her; he visibly flinched at the mention of his son and screwed his eyes shut. Had her comments inadvertently caused a vivid flashback of his abduction to come rushing back to the surface?

He sat frozen in the chair as he willed the images and sounds to leave his overburdened mind, to leave and never come back to haunt him again. Although the dreams had lessened, he still woke up regularly, convinced that the Malucci's had killed his son. The method would change, but the result would always be the same, his son would be dead and the blame would be laid at his door, all because he couldn't give Danny and Gianni the answers that they had wanted from him.

A part of her wanted to make him suffer; to make this as difficult and uncomfortable for him as possible. After all, he had hidden away in Miami for nearly twenty years without bothering to tell her that he was still alive. How dare he keep that from her?

Her hardened stance softened when she saw first-hand the pain and torment that he was still suffering from his ordeal. Damn him, he had always been able to bring out both the best and worst in her. What was it about this man that invoked such strong feelings in her?

Whatever else might have happened, she could not deny that she loved him once and loved him deeply. Perhaps she was not in the right place to reciprocate the depths of the feelings that he clearly had for her, what would have happened if they had met five years later than they really did?

_John would be a dirty cop and a criminal, _she told herself. It was just the way the fates had aligned themselves, that only one of them had been in the right place at the right time. Her heart wasn't in it as much as his was but she got caught up in his passionate need for her, allowing him to shower her with attention both emotional and physical.

She had tried so hard to be the loving wife that he wanted, yet she yearned to be free too. Maybe she was too young to settle down and marry when they did. It was only after they had divorced, and he had descended into the criminal underworld, that she realised that she was ready to really make a go of things with him.

But he was no longer there, he had disappeared into the night like some ethereal mist and was never seen or head of again until his burnt and charred remains were discovered a short time later.

He was zoning out on her, lost in his own thoughts. She cleared her throat to get his attention. "What's your son's name?"

He blinked at her several times before answering quietly, "Kyle."

"Is Calleigh his mother?"

His head shot up at the question as he shook his head vigorously. "I met his mother a long time ago…..she never told me she was pregnant…..I didn't find out about him until he was 15."

He was expecting her to give him some sort of lecture on abandoning his son as well as the people he cared about in New York. He could have taken the time to sit and explain it to her, but he couldn't seem to muster the energy or the inclination to do so at the moment. He'd heard all of the lectures under the sun, having given them to himself time and again. He knew that he'd betrayed them and that Lori had every right to hate him.

Her next words surprised him.

"Are you and Kyle close?"

A wistful smile crossed his face as he thought of his precious boy and the fine young man he had grown into. He had found it hard to accept Kyle's help at first, he felt ashamed at not being able to take care of himself and believed that he was an embarrassment and a hindrance to his teenage son. Kyle had refused to be intimidated by his father and instead cared for him with tenderness and respect.

If there was one good thing to come out of the nightmare of the last six months, it was that he and Kyle were closer than ever, both men learning that they had to make the most of each and every day together. It was important that they told each other how they really felt; life was too short to hold back on saying the things that mattered.

"Yes, we are," he said after a long pause.

She gave him a small smile this time. "I always knew you'd make a good father."

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1991:**

God it felt good not to have to get up early this morning. He'd been working longer shifts and putting in for overtime these last few months in an effort to give his wife the financial stability that she'd been yearning for since they'd gotten married. Both of them earned a government wage in their respective jobs, and although the work they did was important and helped to keep the citizens of New York City safe, neither of them felt they were paid what they deserved.

The plan had been to both take the same week off work; things had become a little strained between them recently as they came home exhausted from long days at work. They would argue over petty things such as whose turn it was to cook the dinner, it used to be such a fun aspect of their relationship cooking each other meals and taking it in turn. His mind cast back to one night not that long ago when he had got in later than he had intended, Lori walked through the front door in a foul mood and screamed at him when her evening meal wasn't ready the second she had entered the apartment.

He had been in no mood for her histrionics either, as he grabbed his wallet and keys and stormed out of the home they shared together, knowing that if he stayed a minute longer when she was in that kind of mood that the evening would not end well. Lori's moods and temper had worsened recently, and with her fury came a barrage of insults and cruel remarks that were usually directed his way.

No, it was best to leave her be when she was in that kind of mood, let her cool off and calm down in her own time. The trouble was that he was finding himself spending more of his evenings out in local bars than he was at home with his wife as their bickering started to become an almost daily occurrence. What had happened to the carefree relationship they once had, had getting married really changed them that much?

Their constant fighting couldn't continue, that much he knew for sure. They had sat down and tried to talk about things amicably, it was somewhat of a surprise to both of them when they realised that they could hold an adult conversation with each other without it descending into a slanging match between them. As they spoke honestly to each other, they realised that they had both been working too hard and not putting enough effort into their marriage. The house in the suburbs could wait for a while, they decided, as they both made a concerted effort to work less and take care of each other more.

The first few days together had been fantastic, as they lounged around in bed for the first twenty four hours getting rid of a lot of the pent-up frustration that they had felt towards each other. Their sex life had dwindled in those months when their marriage had struggled, to the point where they were hardly sharing the same bed let alone sleeping with each other.

Theirs had always been a highly sexual relationship; they were both young and carefree and knew what the other wanted when it came to matters in the bedroom. Sex had always been a huge part of what made them good together, they were unable to resist one another and had usually resolved any differences they had in the bedroom. When things became strained between them, she would invariably shun his advances towards her and push him away citing the fact that she was tired or not in the mood.

It wasn't the be all and end all of their relationship, but sex had to be a part of any healthy relationship and the fact that they had hardly slept together in the last few months had certainly not helped the level of frustration that he was feeling. How were they ever going to start a family if they were never intimate anymore?

That first day had been exactly what both of them needed, he showed Lori just how much he had missed their physical unions and she reciprocated in kind until both of them fell into an exhausted sleep in the middle of the afternoon, waking up hours later to eat and carry on where they left off.

It almost felt as if they were dating again as they did all the silly things that new couples do, going to restaurants or the movies and giggling like a pair of teenagers as they took little notice of the film and spent most of the time canoodling in the seats in the back row. It was spending time with Lori like this that reminded him why he fell in love with her in the first place. She was a free spirit with a devilishly wild side to her and he found her presence intoxicating, there was just something about her that drew him in. She was always a delight when she was happy and relaxed, it seemed as if the time they had both spent away from the stresses and strains of work had helped to improve her moods immeasurably.

They had planned another lazy day, but it had been curtailed in the early hours of the morning as the phone on the bedside table began ringing incessantly. He'd told her to leave it; she ignored him and picked it up anyway, both of their hopes sinking when it became clear that the call was from her boss.

"Don't go," he told her as he rolled over onto his back and rubbed at his face.

"I have to, it's the Randolph case. It's all hands on deck down in the DA's office at the moment."

"But you're on holiday."

She leant over and planted a tender kiss on his lips, pulling away when he tried to turn it into something more. "I have to go, I'll get back as soon as I can."

He huffed his displeasure as he watched her naked form rise from the bed knowing that it would be pointless trying to reason with her, she always got her way in the end. She would have had a fit if he'd tried to pull the same stunt with her, why was it ok for her to be called into work but not him?

Fatigue began to grip him as he tried to keep awake and watch her shapely body move to and fro as she went about getting dressed and ready to leave. He didn't hear her leave or feel the moist kiss she placed on his slightly parted lips as she picked up her bag and left the apartment quietly.

He'd been pottering around the apartment for the last few hours, making his way down the list of odd jobs and repairs that Lori had told him needed doing. He missed her more than he realised as he tried to keep his mind occupied and away from thoughts of his wife and what she might be doing. In the middle of repairing a wobbly shelf, the phone rang.

"John, its Tori. Is Laura there?"

It was the harried voice of his sister in law, the woman married to Lori's brother, Max.

"No, she…uh….she's at work," he finished lamely.

"I thought she was meant to be taking some time off?"

"Yeah….me too," he replied bitterly, frowning as he heard the commotion going on in the background. "Is everything alright there?" he asked, the ingrained nature of a cop coming to the fore as he heard the obvious stress in her voice.

There was a long pause followed by shouting and banging before she responded. "It's Adam," she sobbed as the noise continued. "He's in one of his bad phases again, Max is away on business and won't be back for days…I'm not sure how much more of this I can handle, John."

He had a lot of time for his extended family, Max had always treated him well from the moment they met and he had obviously passed whatever tests Max had in place when he began dating the man's sister. They had a lot of shared interests and were of a similar age, he was a man that he could count on to talk about guy stuff, things that Lori couldn't or wouldn't understand.

Max had married his childhood sweetheart and they had started a family at a young age, through an unfortunate mix of genetics and a traumatic birth, little Adam was born with a number of health issues and as he grew from a baby to a toddler, a number of behavioural issues too. Max and Tori had been devastated when their beloved son had been diagnosed with autism at the age of three, but took heart in the fact that at least they had some kind of reason for his behavioural issues and his problems with speech and learning. With the right schooling and medical assistance, Adam was making good progress but at the age of seven he still had periods where he would be almost impossible for his parents to handle.

Things were easier when both parents were at home, but it seemed as if today was one of those unfortunate days when Tori had been left on her own. He'd always got on pretty well with Adam, he seemed to be able to connect with the boy on a different level than that of his parents, he treated him like the kid brother he'd never had. Lori was a different story though; she'd never really seemed to have that much time for her nephew and had said he was more trouble than he was worth a number of times. It was as if she didn't want to spend time with the difficult young boy yet didn't realise that Adam could sense her distant nature towards him. There were many things he loved about Lori but her lack of empathy for her nephew was not one of them.

"How about I come over and take him out for the day?" he suggested, knowing that Tori had reached the end of her patience with her son.

"Really, you'd do that?"

He smiled down the phone as he cocked his head to one side and held it to his shoulder. "Sure, Lori's left me high and dry. Besides, it's been ages since I've seen the little man. I'll be over in twenty."

True to his word he arrived at Tori's apartment just under twenty minutes later and found the beleaguered woman almost on the verge of tears as she opened the door shakily.

"You ok?" he asked as he pulled her into a warm embrace, running soothing circles over her back as she sobbed into his chest.

As the tears ran dry she pulled back and gave her visitor a watery smile. "Sorry to bother you, I know it's meant to be your time off from work and stuff like this."

"Don't be silly," he replied as he made his way further into the apartment and winced at the sight of the destruction that marred the kitchen and living area. Sensing that all was quiet for the moment, he turned to look at Tori. "Where's the little man now?"

"He's in his room." She pointed in the direction of the door at the far end which had a large hole in it, obviously caused by Adam in one of his fits of temper.

"Ok. I'm gonna go and have a chat with him and then we'll go out for the day, do you need a hand with the clearing up first?"

Tori wiped at the mascara that had run down her face from her fit of crying and hiccupped slightly as her breathing calmed. "No, I can do that. I just need a bit of time on my own, you know?"

He nodded his head in understanding and gave her a small smile. "You got it."

Knocking on the broken bedroom door heavily, he half expected the unruly young boy to curse at him or scream to be left alone. It was a surprise then that Adam remained quiet and allowed him to enter his private domain.

"Hey, man," he smiled to the boy sitting on the floor his back leant against his bed, arms crossed over his knees as he stared at his visitor.

Sensing no outward hostility, he made his way further into the room and saw the level of destruction that Adam had set forth on his room. Books and toys were strewn all over the floor, many with pages and stuffing ripped out whilst the lamp on the bedside table lay sideways on the carpet. The bedding and furnishings had fared little better, as they too were thrown haphazardly across the room.

He made himself comfortable next to the young boy, adopting the same pose that he was. "You gonna tell me what's going on?"


	60. Chapter 60

**A/N: I have upgraded the rating of this story to M to take into account some of the more explicit parts in certain chapters.**

* * *

The young boy slowly raised his head to look at his visitor. "John."

He smiled at Adam as he nodded his head. "Sure is."

"Cop," the boy said worriedly as his bottom lip began to tremble. "Trouble…..Adam in trouble."

Being careful not to startle him, he reached out a hand and placed it on Adam's arm and gave it a light squeeze. "You're not in trouble; I just wanna know what it is that's got you all riled up. Your mom's worried about you."

Adam cocked his head from side to side, glancing around his room and taking in the destruction in his room as if seeing it for the first time.

"Dad," he replied after a long pause.

"You miss him?"

The young boy looked at him with sad eyes and nodded his head.

Pulling himself up, he straightened his t-shirt and pants and held a hand out to Adam. "Come on, let's tidy this up and then I'll take you to the park. Deal?"

The child looked at him suspiciously for a number of moments, as if trying to sense if it was some kind of trick. "Ice cream?" Adam asked hopefully.

"You bet, buddy."

Between the two of them they managed to tidy the room quickly, to the point where it would hardly have been noticeable that anything had occurred earlier. The structure of being given clear instructions seemed to give Adam the chance to focus on something other than his frustration at not being clearly understood by the people around him.

Tori gave them a shaky smile as she heard Adam's bedroom door open and saw the two of them emerge, the young boy looking considerably calmer and more settled than he had been for the last few days.

Adam walked up to his mother and gave her an awkward hug as he avoided making eye contact with her. "Sorry, Mom."

She resisted the urge to plant a kiss on the top of his head, knowing how much he hated physical contact of any sort. "It's ok, Adam. Go and have fun with your Uncle John."

The young boy looked at her hopefully before pointing to the door, tapping his uncle's arm to gain his attention. "Park," he commanded, causing the two adults to laugh.

Giving Tori a reassuring smile he followed Adam out the door, "We'll be back in a little while," he called from over his shoulder.

A day out in the fresh air with different company seemed to do Adam the world of good as he looked visibly more relaxed than he had this morning. A day spent riding on the subway and then a visit to Central Park seemed to raise his spirits no end, running round chasing after a basketball on the concrete court helped to get rid of a lot of the pent-up energy that was coursing through the difficult young boy.

His arms had begun to ache by the time Adam had pointed to the swings at the far end of the park. "Push," he told his uncle firmly as he raced over and sat down on one of them.

He was probably indulging the boy, yet he couldn't help himself, there was something about spending quality time with kids that made him feel good inside. Perhaps it was the fact that he had grown up an only child with no idea of what it felt like to be a sibling. He would have been a good older brother he thought, always protecting his younger sibling from anyone who meant them harm. He'd never got that chance though, was his urge to have children based on the fact that so much of his own childhood was spent on his own with only his mother for company?

He loved spending time with Adam but yearned for a family of his own, it was all well and good babysitting from time to time, to have your own children was a privilege and he wondered if it would ever happen for him and Lori. A baby would make their family complete, he would be able to care and love the child, making sure it would grow up in a home where they would know they were loved unconditionally by their parents.

Now things were back on track between them, was now the right time to start thinking about starting a family?

"Push!"

Adam's loud voice shook him from his musings as he realised he had stopped paying attention to how high Adam was on the swing. He shook his head and began pushing the boy in earnest, laughing at the delighted sounds that escaped from Adam as he did so. He failed to notice the woman who stood pushing a little girl on the swing next to him.

"How old?" the raven-haired woman asked.

His cheeks flushed slightly as he realised that he'd been caught in his own little dream world. "Uh…..seven."

She could have been no more than in her early thirties as she looked down at his hands and saw the wedding band, her face dropping slightly in disappointment. "He's lucky to have you…..so is your wife."

The meaning of her words didn't register at first, was this woman flirting with him?

"He's…uh…he's not mine. He's my nephew."

Hope sparked back to life in her eyes as she realised that this cute man was married but perhaps had no children of his own.

"Do you have your own?" she asked, hoping the answer would be no.

He shook his head sadly, he continued to push Adam as the boy laughed at going higher and higher. "Maybe someday soon," he replied wistfully.

He didn't have the chance to talk to the alluring stranger for much longer as an ice cream stall caught Adam's attention, he leapt off the swing and went running towards it. He ran after the boy as fast he could and sent a silent prayer up to the Heavens that Adam would tire soon.

A few hours and two ice creams later, Adam was beginning to flag and he could tell that the young boy would soon become tired and frustrated. "Come on, buddy. Let's take you back home."

His face dropped as he looked genuinely disappointed that his time with his uncle was up. "Adam stay?"

It broke his heart to say no to him, but he had no choice, there would be no way that Lori would even entertain the idea of their nephew staying with them overnight. "Sorry, I gotta take you back to your mom, ok?"

The boy looked at him with tears in his eyes. "Ok."

The ride back on the subway was certainly more subdued as fatigue began to take hold of Adam, he watched over the boy protectively as he dozed in the seat next to him. He might not have had kids of his own, but he was damn sure he was going to give his nephew as much of his time as he could. Someone needed to take the time to understand what made the complicated young boy tick, to look past his disabilities and see the potential inside of him.

He carried Adam on his back when they arrived at their stop on the subway, the young boy refusing to walk the few short blocks back to his home. Perhaps he should have been firmer with him and made him walk, but he took pity on him as he hoisted him onto his back and headed towards the apartment block.

Adam's arms tightened around his neck as the child whispered sleepily in his ear. "Adam happy."

The words caused a huge grin to break out on his face, due to the boy's autistic nature he very rarely spoke of his feelings or appeared to be conscious of those of others. It was rare that he would show any kind of affection to anyone, the only emotion he seemed to be able express with any regularity was anger.

He patted one of the arms around his neck. "Me too, buddy."

He felt Adam rest his head against his own in a genuine sign of affection. "Adam loves John."

Had the boy not been holding on as tightly as he was, he would have likely dropped Adam with the shock of hearing the words coming from him. Never had he heard those words come out of the child's mouth, not even to his parents.

He felt hot salty tears spring to his eyes as he cleared his throat roughly and adjusted the tired boy on his back. "Come on," he said as they neared the steps leading up to the apartment block. "Let's give you a bath and then I'll read you a story before bed."

The poor boy had almost fallen asleep in the bath, he insisted that Tori put her feet up and relax as he went about getting Adam ready for bed. She certainly looked a lot more rested and refreshed for a day away from her demanding son as she sat admiring him from the couch.

"He's asleep now," he said as he sat next to her, drying his hands off with a towel.

"John…..thanks so much for today, you didn't have to…."

Reaching out for her hand he squeezed it gently. "It's not a problem. Any time you need a hand you give me a call, ok?"

She smiled at him gratefully. "You'll make a great dad, are you and Lori making any plans to start a family?"

It was a question that he had asked himself many times recently, he desperately wanted a child of his own to love and protect. Now that things were moving in the right direction in their relationship, was now the right time to ask Lori how she'd feel about trying for a baby?

"I hope so," was his vague response to her question, the truth was that he had no idea if Lori even wanted kids; they hadn't even considered that before they got married. Had he been too blinded by his love for her to consider that perhaps they wanted different things in life.

He brooded on the questions that spending a day with Adam had raised as he made his way back to his own apartment. The sun had already begun to set, the day seemingly moving faster than he had realised.

Opening the door, he found her sitting there frowning at him.

"Where have you been?" she asked with a hint of irritation in her voice.

"At Tori's. Adam was being a handful again."

"What happened to being on holiday?"

He was tired himself, he had little time to get involved in another petty squabble with her. "I could ask you the same thing," he replied testily as he sat down next to her on the couch, both of them glaring at the other.

"How was work?" he asked finally, fed up with the awkward silence in the apartment.

"I was finished by three, I came back and you weren't here. I've spent the rest of the day on my own."

There were times when she could be infuriatingly short sighted when it came to the needs of others, he was tempted to make her aware of how selfish she was being but he had tired of the constant arguing and decided to take her mind off of things by being amorous with her instead.

He leaned over and kissed her hungrily, his hands reaching out to bring her head closer to his as he tried to convey his intentions towards her.

After getting caught up in the moment she pulled away suddenly. "John…..I'm trying to be angry with you," she sighed, already admitting defeat as he pulled her closer again and began trailing kisses across her neck and face.

"John," she pleaded breathlessly, knowing that it was pointless; his touch was setting her skin on fire as he refused to listen to her, his hands making short work of the blouse she was wearing.

"That's better," he mumbled against her chest as his mouth and hands worked their way further down her body.

Whatever she had considered saying went out of her mind, his skilful mouth and hands distracted her from whatever point it was that she was trying to make. She loved this man, but he could infuriate her with his willingness to try to please everyone all the time. Didn't he know that he was hers and no one else's?

No one could make her feel the way he did, his fingers roamed her body and soon both of them were naked as they got lost in the moment. He laid her back on the couch and grinned wickedly at her, she knew what his intentions were and was more than happy to let him have his way.

He lay on top of her panting as they both tried to come down from the incredible high that they had just experienced, angry sex was definitely underrated, he thought as he saw the passion still clouding his wife's eyes.

"I have an idea," he said as he shifted both of them so that Lori was nestling comfortably in his arms, their naked bodies intertwined.

"You do?" she asked playfully, all hints of her earlier irritation having vanished.

"I think we should make a deal. Let's keep the sex dirty and the fighting clean, what do you think?"

She turned around and kissed him passionately as her hands ran up and down his bare chest, revelling in the feel of his chest hair against the palms of her hands. "I think you have yourself a deal. How about we shake on it?"

He'd barely had time to hold his hand out before one of hers had travelled further south, her intentions clear as he closed his eyes and laid back, enjoying her sensuous ministrations. God he loved this woman and the passion they shared, the only thing that would make him complete was the thought of his precious wife carrying his child, something that he hoped would happen sooner rather than later.

* * *

**Miami. Present day: **

"He really missed you; he never understood why you left." Her words were spoken softly but all it seemed to do was make him feel worse than he already did about the whole situation.

To turn his back on everyone he knew and loved was not something he did lightly, he had been forced into making that choice by matters outside of his control. Did she not think that he had not already suffered enough for letting them down?

"None of this was easy for me Lori, why can't you understand that?"

He sounded so tired and defeated that she ached to pull him towards her and comfort him, yet her pride and principles stood in the way of reaching a hand out in forgiveness to him. One look at his tired face told her that he had suffered for the things he had done, but his betrayal had been hard on all of them, surely he understood that?

"Why didn't you come to me?" she asked him sadly.

Her question took him by surprise. "I couldn't tell anyone, it would only have placed you in danger if I had."

"So you put yourself at risk instead?"

He nodded his head, closing his eyes in defeat. "It was easier that way."

"On who?"

That appeared to be the pertinent question; nobody had come out victorious in this situation, no one except the slimy Agent Collins perhaps. They had all suffered because of the things that he was forced to do; he had never for one moment enjoyed seeing the pain on the faces of the people he cared about, the pain that he had inflicted on them.

"I guess I thought it was better that you were alive and hated me than dead because I couldn't protect you." His words were quiet, his voice barely a whisper. How many times had he been round this in his own head? Always asking the same questions but never finding the right answer.

"You could have arranged police protection for us," she suggested as she nibbled on a biscuit from the plate in the middle of the table.

He let out an incredulous laugh. "We all know how well that worked out in the Marino case, don't we?" He fiddled with his mug with is left hand, flexing the fingers when he felt the familiar tingling sensation flow through them. "They had people everywhere, Lori. I couldn't keep you all safe by myself. I made a deal with the FBI…I told them I'd do what they wanted if they kept you safe. The deeper I got in…..the worse things got, I didn't have a choice…..I had to keep going until Collins was satisfied that he'd got enough to put the Malucci's away."

His was so contrite as he spoke, she couldn't help but feel sympathy towards him, the anger of his betrayal lessened as she listened to his reasons, was it right for her to make him continue suffering for the things that he had been forced to do?

"I hated every minute of what I did back then…..I tried everything to block it out….drink, drugs…..none of it helped though. I thought about you all...every day, I couldn't eat…..I couldn't sleep. I got in so deep Lori….I couldn't get back out again until Collins had what he wanted. I never meant to hurt any of you…if I could take back the things that I had said and done...believe me I would have. I pushed you away because I wanted you to be happy….you deserved better than me…..you deserved to be safe."

He looked at her with pain-filled eyes as he confessed his sins; she couldn't help but be affected by what he was telling her. Her anger had clouded her judgement and it had made her unwilling to see just how much he had suffered too, perhaps more than anyone else. The man that sat before her now was not the carefree John that she remembered, but a man who seemed to be struggling to survive with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

His smile was one of the things she had loved most about him, yet his face seemed to be etched with a permanent frown instead as he hung his head shamefully, unwilling to look at her. He had been brutally punished by his captors and emotionally battered; he was sitting only feet away begging for forgiveness, would absolving him of his past sins finally give him the peace that he seemed to be searching for?

She had not always been the best wife to him; she had been too wrapped in her own needs and desires to pay much attention to what was best for the man she loved. Time and distance had showed her what a terrible mistake she had made when they had been together, how she wished she could take back some of the callous things she had said to him, she had been young and volatile and hit out at the one person who cared for her the most.

Rising from the chair she held her hands out to him as he looked at her questioningly, after a moment or two he took them and allowed himself to be pulled up.

"John…."

"Lori," he interrupted her. Raising a finger to his lips, she silenced whatever he was about to say.

"Be quiet and let me speak," she gently chided with a wry grin on her face, she leant over and whispered in his ear, "I forgive you."

She pulled him into a fierce hug as he sank into her embrace, feeling his legs go weak as he heard the words he had been waiting so long to hear. "You can stop fighting now," she told him as he wept silently on her shoulder.


	61. Chapter 61

She held him close as she felt the tremors wrack his body, years of guilt washing away as she rubbed soothing hands up and down his back, he whispered over and over again, "I'm sorry….I'm so sorry."

"It's ok," she crooned in his ear, her hot breath causing a familiar sensation to tingle through him as he gripped her tightly.

God, it felt so good to be in her arms again, the feel of her hands on his body took him back to a place that seemed like a lifetime ago, and it had been, back then he was a different person, he was John Kelly.

But who was he now; did he even want to be Horatio Caine anymore?

Before he'd ever met the Malucci's his life, while not perfect, was certainly a lot simpler than his present predicament. Since that fateful night, when he had been attacked on the street, everything had gone wrong, horribly wrong.

People had died and suffered because of him, their deaths were on his conscience. The curse followed him as he moved to Miami and assumed a new identity, people that he cared about had died, Speed, Jesse, Marisol, they had all died because they had the misfortune to know him. He might not have killed them with his own hands, but he knew that they would likely still be alive if they had never come into contact with him.

Was it wrong to want to go back to his past, when things seemed so much simpler?

She pulled back slightly and looked her former lover in the eyes, seeing the depths of his remorse in those bright blue orbs. Cupping his face with her hands she moved her head closer to him until she could feel his hot breath on her face.

He knew what was coming, knew that he should pull away from her before it was too late. He couldn't, he stood there frozen as she leaned closer still and placed a tender kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes as the shame of what he was doing washed over him; Calleigh had stood by him through everything. Was this how he would repay her?

For a moment he was lost in the kiss, lost in the memory of the passionate nights that he had shared with Lori, the nights when she would scream his name in the throes of ecstasy. He was young and life was good, Lori reminded him of the potential of his youth, how he felt that the world was at his feet and that happiness would last forever.

He couldn't deny that he loved Calleigh, she had done everything and more to protect him and care for him as he recovered from what the Malucci's had done to him. He was a grown man though, his strength and emotional stability were returning, he found himself feeling slightly resentful for the maternal treatment she bestowed upon on him. It made him feel old and weak; Lori made him feel young and vital. Was it so wrong, after everything that he had been through, that he wanted to pretend, just for a minute, that he was the innocent young detective from Queens and not a haggard and put upon Lieutenant in Miami?

_Think, man. Think! _His subconscious screamed at him as Lori attempted to deepen the kiss. Images of Calleigh assaulted his mind, he pulled away from Lori roughly in an attempt to gain some distance between them.

"I…uh…..I need the bathroom," he stuttered as he looked up at her briefly, feeling a stab of guilt as she looked at him in confusion.

"John, wait!" she called out after him, seeing his retreating form head for the hallway. Admitting defeat, she sat back down at the table and nursed her now lukewarm coffee, wondering what the hell was going on between the pair of them.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced to the bathroom and shut the door quickly behind him, leaning his head back against the wood, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to calm his racing heartbeat_._

What the hell did he think he was doing, kissing her?

Slamming his head back against the door brought the welcome sensation of pain and he used it to focus his mind, to forget about the memories that kissing Lori again had brought.

Calleigh loved him, faults and all, and it was fair to say that he had a fair number of them. She may have been overprotective of him of late, that was understandable, but never once had she asked him to be anything other than the man she knew him to be.

Lori had always wanted things her own way and would scream at him or sulk like a child when she didn't get it. There was always something that was never quite right, he didn't work in the right Precinct, he didn't earn enough money, he didn't pay her enough attention. It had always been more give than take in his relationship with his wife. She demanded, and in an effort to keep her happy and by his side, he would inevitably give in to her.

Common sense told him that Lori would not remain in her sympathetic mood for long; she would soon tire of his self-pity and expect him to change to please her. He knew all of this and more, yet he couldn't deny that the feel of her hands on his body and the touch of her lips on his brought a multitude of sensations, many of them pleasurable. He'd been denied pleasure for so long that he felt as if he were a starving man being offered food for the first time. The sensation was addictive, he wanted more of it.

_No, _the voice of reason commanded him. It was a trick straight from the hands of the Devil himself; he wanted him to give into temptation, to give into his heart's desires. There was a catch; there was always a catch involved. Happiness had never come for free in his experience.

Would being with Lori really make him happy, or was it the physical gratification and the reminder of his youth that he was yearning for instead?

Making love to Calleigh had been more than he could have hoped for, he felt loved and accepted by her. But more than that, he felt peace when they had finally come together, he felt as if he had come home as they reached the pinnacle of their ecstasy together. Being with Calleigh just felt right, she was a symbol of everything that was good in his life as Horatio Caine. He needed to be with her, he had to be with her.

He had made his decision, he was a stubborn man if nothing else and he would not be swayed from the choice he had made, no matter how hard Lori would try to convince him otherwise. Kissing his ex-wife had been a mistake, but it had served to prove that his heart belonged to Calleigh, he would not throw away his chance at a future with her over a few misplaced feelings about Lori.

He crept slowly back into the kitchen, wary of the reaction from Lori. She glared at him for a moment before rising from her chair and brewing another pot of coffee.

"I thought you'd run off," she said dismissively over her shoulder, not looking at him. "You always were good at that."

Had he the energy or inclination he might have responded in kind to her goading remark, she'd tried to kiss him and his only answer had been to break away before running off and hiding. He had to though, he had to put some physical distance between them before his body betrayed him, his skin felt on fire when she touched him as his brain sent signals to his body, demanding more of the same.

Lori had always been like a drug to him, no matter how she treated him, how small she made him feel, he would always gladly take her in his arms and lose himself in the pleasure of making love to her. Like any other addict, he knew that she was no good for him, that he would feel worse afterwards for sinking so low and repeatedly going back to her no matter the consequence, he needed his fix though, and he didn't care what he would have to do to get it.

For years after leaving New York he spent his time building his control, never letting himself get lost in the sensations that a meaningful relationship with a woman would bring. He'd dated women since he'd been here but few of them were ever that serious, there was always a part of him that he kept hidden from view, the moment anyone got too close he would pull away and put distance between them. He wanted to open up and show them the real man behind the image, yet the past prevented him from having the courage to do so, many of them tired of his evasive and secretive behaviour and left him behind, in search of a man who would give them what they wanted, a lover in body, mind and soul.

The closest he had ever come to opening up to another woman had been Marisol, for some reason she had been besotted with him, even though he was a great deal older than her. She had been so sweet and innocent, drawn to the safety that his arms offered her, she had needed someone to tend to her and care for her after her battle with cancer and he had been there, like a knight in shining armour. Marisol had told him that she wanted to travel the world, to have his children, she had so many dreams and her second chance at life had spurred her on to want to achieve them.

Perhaps he had got carried away himself, her enthusiasm was infectious, he found himself caught up in her plans, doing whatever he could to make them happen for her. She needed him, after years of loneliness he had found someone who needed him, who didn't question his past, just accepted him for who he was. Did he ever truly love her though, or had he been caught up in her need for a fairy tale ending?

Not even the Brothers Grimm could have come up with a more tragic ending to her story; she had been murdered for no other reason than her association to him. She had died before she'd ever had the chance to do the things she'd wanted to.

Her death had hit him hard, in his own strange way he had loved her, not in the way he had loved Lori or the way he currently felt about Calleigh, more caregiver than lover. Losing her had been a terrible blow, the guilt of her death followed him everywhere like a murky shadow, shrouding his world in darkness where there should have been light. Her death had taught him that he would forever be cursed for the pain that he had caused in his past, the moment he found happiness it would be snatched away from him, taunting him with the life that he wanted but could never have.

Sighing, he made his way back to the table and sat down heavily on a chair, running a hand through his auburn hair, aware that he'd hurt her by pushing her away. "Lori….what just happened was wrong," he told her as leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

She turned to look at him now. "Why was it wrong? We obviously still have feelings for each other."

Closing his eyes, he shook his head. "Not anymore…..what we had...is in the past."

"It didn't feel like that when you kissed me," she retorted as she placed a mug of coffee in front of him with a little more force than she was intending. "You still love me; I can see it in your eyes."

"You're wrong, I love Calleigh," he looked up at her desperately, his eyes pleading with her to understand.

Pulling her chair closer to him, she took his trembling hands in her own. "What we had was special, John. We can have it again."

He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping for all the world that she would just scream at him and storm out, anything was better than the sweet torture that she was putting him through. "No," he ground out through gritted teeth, feeling his resolve weaken as she stroked the back of his hands with her thumbs.

She gripped onto his hands tighter as she felt him trying to pull away from her. "Look, I admit it, I was wrong to let you go…But I know now how good together we were, I want us to have a second chance…..I want you."

Throwing his head back he let out a pained moan as his head and heart waged a fierce battle with each other, the cacophony of sounds reverberating throughout his skull would have been enough to drive him to his knees were he not already sitting down. The urge to grab her, to take her right there and then in the kitchen, was almost too much for him to bear. His mind knew it was fighting a losing battle as his hands moved to her shoulders, his head dropped back down to look at her, passion clouding his vision and judgement as he looked at her beautiful face. In a last-ditch effort, his mind threw forth a long-forgotten memory from his past.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1992:**

Christmas and New Year had come and gone as life returned to normal in New York, the last month of the year was always a strange time in this city; its citizens seemed to release a year's worth of pent-up craziness as the holiday season approached. Every cop was glad when the festivities were over and done with, the cells had been full of people who'd consumed too much liquor or had gotten into fist fights with other parents as to who would grab the last toy in the store for whatever was all the rage that year.

Too many perps meant too much paperwork as far as he was concerned, not helped by the fact that Andy had taken it upon himself to indulge in his weakness for booze. His citing of the fact that it was the holiday season held little weight with his beleaguered partner. He'd tired of covering the older man's ass every time the Lieutenant came asking questions as to why Andy wasn't at his desk.

It irritated him that the vast majority of the people that they had arrested and arraigned over the last six weeks were normal everyday people who had been caught up in the madness of the season. Most of them had loving families; they should have been spending their Christmas at home with their children, not spending it with a night in lockup for their juvenile behaviour.

At least he'd been spared working Christmas Day this year, after visiting his mother in the nursing home the night before, it was heavenly to wake up next to his wife the next morning as they celebrated the day in their own unique way. The next few days had carried on in the same vein as the loved-up couple put their problems earlier in the year behind them and concentrated on spending some quality time with each other, laughing and smiling like they did when they'd first met.

Their agreement to keep the sex dirty had certainly come with some unexpected benefits, Lori had become much more adventurous and demanding when it came to his duties as a husband and a lover. There had been days when her appetite had been insatiable, yet he'd prided himself on the fact that he had kept up with her every time. There were days when he had barely made it through the door after his shift before she had jumped on him and started tearing off his clothes, each time she dragged him down to the floor to have her way with him he prayed that this time would be it, that their physical union would result in conceiving the child that he so desperately yearned for.

He ambled around the kitchen preparing breakfast for the pair of them as he heard his wife banging about in the bathroom, obviously preparing herself for another day at the DA's office. He smirked when he heard her curse loudly as he carried two cups of coffee to the table and set them down, waiting for Lori to join him. He was about to make another trip to the kitchen when her voice stopped him, the fear in it evident as she spoke.

"John?"

He smiled wolfishly at her as he saw her, perhaps she was trying out a new look, he thought as she stood in the doorway, her blouse billowing open and revealing her lacy white bra.

"Need a hand dressing?" he asked playfully as he made his way towards her.

He was stunned when she took a step back and ran a shaky hand through her hair. "I'm late," she blurted out finally after a long pause.

Letting out a small laugh, he looked at his watch and told her patiently. "It's only eight thirty, you don't need to be at work for another hour, remember?"

She growled in frustration at his inability to understand what it is that she was trying to tell him. "No, you fool. I mean I'm _late!_"

It seemed like an eternity, she watched his expression change as the realisation of what she meant finally set in. He stood before her, mouth wide open as he struggled to comprehend what she'd just told him.


	62. Chapter 62

He gawped at her for what seemed like an eternity, the expression on his face changing from dumbfounded shock to unimaginable joy. She was going to have a baby, his baby.

"You're…you're pregnant?" he asked hopefully, unable to keep the stupid grin off of his face. He'd been waiting months for this moment, was it too much to hope that it had finally arrived?

The smile on his face began to falter when he noticed Lori looking less than pleased at the fact that they might very well have a child on the way. Surely, when she'd married him she wanted to start a family just as much as he did?

She ran a hand through her hair, chewing on a fingernail on the opposite hand. "It's only been a couple of days. I won't know until I've been to see my doctor."

"Call them now," he told her excitedly. He wanted it confirmed as soon as possible so that they could start planning in earnest for the new arrival of their little family. There were appointments to be booked, a room to be decorated, baby clothes and toys to be bought.

"I can't. I have to get the briefing ready for the Hakasan trial; the DA is expecting it by the end of the day."

"Get someone else to do it," he replied dismissively, his mind centred on only one thing. The possibility that his wife might be pregnant with their first child.

"John, I can't. This is important." Her voice was firm as she went about doing up the buttons on her blouse.

"And our baby isn't?" he shot back, beginning to feel angry that she didn't seem at all happy that she might be pregnant.

"I don't even know if I am. Hopefully it's just the stress of the case that has made me late."

She couldn't have hurt him more if she'd taken a knife from the kitchen and stabbed him in the heart with it, as she poured bucket after bucket of cold water over his dreams of starting a family.

"Hopefully?" he echoed quietly as he shakily sat down on the couch not looking at her, his mind unable to comprehend the thought that she didn't want this just as much as he did. Why didn't she want a baby, was it because of him?

It seemed to dawn on her, what she had said, a few minutes later as she watched his shoulders slump in disappointment. She hadn't meant the words to come out the way they did, she had panicked at the thought of being pregnant and what it would mean for her career and her relationship with her husband. Would adding a baby into the mix just make their lives more complicated, and more to the point, was she even ready to settle down and start a family?

"John," she called out to him as she made her way over to the couch, feeling hurt when he shot up and stood in the farthest corner of the room. "John, please…."

He shook his head; he couldn't bear to look at her right now, knowing that if he did she would see the tears that were in his eyes. Had he misunderstood how she felt about him, was he really that blinded by his love for her that he'd not seen how much she didn't want his children?

"I have to go to work," he blurted out as he grabbed his suit jacket and made his way hastily to the front door of their apartment, slamming it shut behind him as his bottom lip began to quiver.

* * *

He'd been in a foul mood ever since he'd walked through the squad room gate this morning, the events of earlier still fresh in his mind as he stomped around the Precinct throwing death glares at anyone who dared cross him during the shift. Poor Greg Medavoy had been on the receiving end of one particularly barbed comment from him, that had been enough for his partner to take him to one side in the bathroom.

"Who's shit on your chips?" the burly older man asked him as he zipped his fly and walked over to the basin to wash his pudgy hands.

"Leave it, Andy," he replied as he followed suit, the scowl still a permanent fixture on his face since he'd stormed out on his wife this morning.

"No can do, kid. You're walking around here in a worse mood than my ex-wife on her period. What gives?" Andy prodded as he shook his hands of excess water before towelling them off.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as his mind cast back to the conversation he'd had with Lori this morning. "Lori's late," he said by way of explanation as he received a blank stare from Andy in reply. "For her…..you know…..time of the month."

The two men shared a look, Andy could sympathise with his young partner, women who were ovulating were more frightening and unpredictable than any other kind of person he'd ever come across in his career as a cop. "You'll have to spell it out for me, John."

He sighed dramatically as he placed his hands on his hips, frustrated that Andy was being so blind as to what he was trying to tell him. "She thinks she might be pregnant, Andy."

The more Andy thought about it, the more he couldn't understand why Laura being pregnant would be a reason to walk around the squad room with a face like a slapped ass. John and his wife were madly in love, any fool could see that. "And you're unhappy about that because…."

"I don't think she wants it," he replied quietly as he turned away and punched his locker with a closed fist, before resting his arms and head on the cool metal.

He didn't want to look at his partner right now, to see the righteous look on his face, the smug grin that Andy would wear as he told him that he had been right, that women were more trouble than they were worth.

His partner's reaction took him by surprise as the older man walked up to him and placed a gentle hand on his back. "I'm sorry, kid. That's rough."

The wounded little boy in him wanted to grab onto Andy and weep, but he refused to give Lori the satisfaction of seeing how deeply she'd hurt him. To bring new life into the world was the ultimate statement of love that two people could share, if she didn't want to carry his child what would that mean for the longevity of their relationship?

From the moment she had sauntered into the squad room, he knew that she was the woman for him, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, building a home and starting a family.

As the first flushes of passion dissipated and they began to settle into married life it seemed as if she was pulling away from him, putting her career ahead of their relationship. There were times when the atmosphere was so strained between them that he wondered what he was doing spending his time with someone as cold and thoughtless as her.

Perhaps his memories of his own parent's relationship had clouded his judgement when it came to his own. He had never once seen his parents have a fight; they never screamed or shouted at each other. They were devoted to each other and their precious son, a son who was too young and naïve to realise that no matter how much two people loved each other, there would always be an argument or disagreement along the way. His parents had bickered, that much he remembered, but they had always treated each other with dignity and respect, even when they were not seeing eye to eye.

He looked at Andy and was unable to fight back the hot tears that pricked at his eyes. "I thought she loved me," he muttered despondently as his gaze returned to the dirty linoleum floor of the locker room.

_God, I'm no good at this kind of stuff,_ Andy thought to himself as he lowered his bulky frame onto the wooden bench a few feet away from the lockers that were lined up against the wall. "Of course she loves you, John."

"Then why doesn't she want my baby?"

There was no easy answer to that, every reason that he did come up with just seemed trite in response. He was older, but not necessarily wiser than his young partner, he'd been on this earth a lot longer than John, yet was just as clueless as he was when it came to the opposite sex.

Was it ever possible to know what went through a woman's mind?

To him, it seemed like they had a bizarre logic all of their own. The way that women came to decisions never seemed to make sense to him; they would irritate him, anger him and frustrate the living daylights out of him. They were the ultimate mystery to solve, but the further he delved into it, the more confused he became about them.

"Don't you think you're getting a little ahead of yourself? Has she been to see her doctor yet?"

He shook his head sadly as he looked at Andy. "She says she's too busy working on some case to go and get checked out." The bitterness was evident in his voice as he spoke.

"Maybe it's just taken her by surprise; give her a few days to get her head around it." He was grasping at straws and he knew it, but he would have done anything to ease the pain that his young partner was feeling right now.

He was about to open his mouth to say something when the beeper on his belt began chirping at him, he sent a small prayer up to the Heavens for the perfect excuse to bolt from the room to get away from Andy's well-meaning platitudes about relationships. His partner was hardly the type of man who was an expert on the subject, a man with a failed marriage, a son who hated him and a string of failed relationships behind him.

Andy watched him leave, shaking his head as John darted from the room holding his pager up. He was gone before he'd even had the time to tell him that sometimes life just didn't work out the way you wanted it to.

* * *

He'd done everything he could to avoid going home, but perhaps the four double whiskeys he'd sunk at O'Malley's were a mistake as he stumbled up the stairs towards the apartment, knowing full well that Lori would not be amused to find him in an inebriated state.

The image of the door lock swam before his eyes as he tried vainly to put his key in it several times. He'd almost succeeded in getting it in before the door opened suddenly, leaving him staring down a fierce-looking Lori.

She tutted at him, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit jacket as she dragged his sorry carcass into the apartment and shut the door forcefully behind her. "Where the hell have you been?" she asked as she folded her arms over her chest, clearly annoyed that he had not returned straight home after his shift.

"What do you care?" he shot back childishly as he awkwardly shrugged out of his jacket and attempted to throw it on the back of a chair only for it to miss completely and fall to the floor in a heap.

"Are you drunk?"

"So what if I am?" he replied haughtily as he weaved slightly, trying to lower himself down onto the couch. It was only when the cold January air hit him as he left the bar, that the full effects of downing half a bottle of whiskey made its presence known. His head was starting to spin as the room began to swim in and out of focus.

"How the hell do you expect me to bring a baby up when I'm stuck with an overgrown child like you!" she yelled as she raised her hands up in despair.

The anger had blunted his senses and clouded his judgment, all he could see were the red mists of rage, his deep-seated hurt that the woman he loved was horrified at the thought of carrying his baby. "Then why don't you get rid of it?" His voice was so loud that it caused Mr Thompson, their next-door neighbour to bang on the joining wall as he began yelling too, demanding that they keep the noise down.

She felt as if she had been slapped, had he really just said that to her?

She knew he was drunk, and that she had been the cause, but did he really mean that?

She could feel the anger radiating from him as he sat with his head in his hands, his body trembling slightly as all of the hurt and pain of the day began to seep from his weary bones, his body sagging visibly under the strain of holding him upright.

Fearing his reaction, she made her way slowly over to him and sat down, resisting the urge to make physical contact with him. "It's beside the point now…..I came on earlier today," she said quietly.

He said nothing as he nodded his head.

"I'm sorry, John."

"No you're not," he muttered under his breath, fully aware that she would be able to hear him clearly.

"Excuse me?"

"You're not sorry, Lori. You never wanted a baby in the first place, you're just glad that you don't have to go and get rid of it now."

He'd turned his head to look at her as he spoke and she had responded with a vicious slap to his face that left his cheek stinging. "Don't you ever talk to me like that again, you bastard!"

Tears were in her eyes now, partly because his words had cut her deeply, but partly because deep down she knew he was right. To think that she might have been pregnant had come as a huge shock to her, was it just the fact that she had been caught off guard by the possibility or was the truth that she didn't want to start a family with him?

She loved him, she was certain of that. She also loved her job and the career that she had worked so hard to build, was she really ready to give that up and become a stay at home mom?

Could she really tolerate being stuck indoors all day nursing the children, the only bright spot in her day being meeting the other parents in the park as they took their children out for some fresh air and a break from the monotony of raising their offspring?

Was she really ready for sleepless nights, feedings and nappy changes on a daily basis, for years on end?

He had wanted to take care of her; he had made that clear since they had met. He'd always told her that he worried about the dangers her job brought with it and begged her to go and work in some quiet little upstate law firm where she would be safe from harm. She wouldn't listen though; she valued her independence too much to give into him. Staying at home and being a kept woman was not what she wanted, she liked the fact that she had her own career and was not reliant on her husband to provide for her. If anything, she made more money than he did, how would he like it if she demanded that he be the one to stay at home and be taken care of?

He looked pathetic as he sat on the couch, pinning her with those doleful blue eyes of his. Her pride would not allow her to comfort him as she stung from the cruel way he had spoken to her. He had been angry, and perhaps rightly so, but coming home drunk and hurling abuse at her was not the way she had expected him to deal with it. She had always seen him as a passionate yet gentle man, she had certainly provoked him enough times, but he had never lashed out at her in such a brutal manner before. Did he really feel that strongly about having a baby?

She could think of no other explanation for his vindictive behaviour towards her as she grabbed the spare linen from the wardrobe in their bedroom and tossed it in his direction as he remained on the couch.

"Sleep it off, John," she told him quietly as she made her way to their bedroom and shut the door behind her, only then allowing the tears to fall that she had tried so hard to hold back.

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

He opened his eyes and found her looking at him expectantly as she kept a firm grip of his hands. "Are you ok?" she asked, concern evident in her voice. His eyes still held that faraway look, as if he were in another place and time entirely.

Recognition came back slowly as his eyes focused on her face. "Lori?"

She smiled at him as she cupped his face tenderly, leaning in to kiss him again. His reaction caught her by surprise as he roughly pushed her away and made his way to the opposite side of the room.

"Stop it," he told her, anguish clear in his low tone.

"Stop what?" she asked as she made her way towards him only for him to lift his hands to block her.

"Stop doing this to me," he pleaded as he ran his hands over his face and hair.

"John, I came here to tell you that I was wrong and that I still love you."

He squeezed his eyes shut painfully again, as if the motion of doing so would block out the words that she was saying. He didn't want to hear it, not now. Not ever.

"How long before you decide I'm not good enough anymore?"

His question stopped her dead in her tracks. "Excuse me?"

She gasped as he opened his eyes to look at her, the sadness in them made her physically ache to reach out and hold him to her. To soothe away the pain that she had obviously caused him.

"You were the one who walked out, Lori, not me. I loved you…I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you...You broke my heart, Lori."

"I'm sorry…."

"I would have done anything for you, do you know that?" He began pacing the room like a caged tiger; years of resentment were flooding to the surface leaving him feeling powerless to stop it. "I let you treat me like crap; I wanted you back so badly that it hurt. You only wanted me when it suited you...I was happy with that if it meant that we got to spend time together. And then you started dating that doctor…"

"Danny," she added and was rewarded with a piercing glare for even mentioning his name.

"He gave you everything that I couldn't…..you didn't want me in your life anymore."

"You were the one who disappeared, John. Don't try to hang this crap on me!" she shouted as she stood with her hands on her hips.

"It didn't take you long to have his children though, did it?"

Finally they were getting to the root of the problems between them. It had been the major sticking point in their relationship, his eagerness to start a family had caused a rift so large between them that she had felt as if she'd had no choice but to call time on their marriage. Time and children of their own had not seemed to heal the wounds that they had caused each other all those years ago.

Time had only increased the bitterness that he felt towards her, when Andy had told him of the children she'd had he had felt insanely jealous. How could she have moved on so easily in her life without him, why did she want a family with someone who wasn't him?

He was possessive when it came to her, his passion and the depth of his feelings towards her meant that he was blinded to anything else that might have been going on around him. He wanted her, he had always wanted her, even in those dark days when he crept into the shadows, and visions of her face haunted him, causing him to try to block it out as he numbed his mind and body with alcohol or whatever substances he could get his hands on.

He'd worked so hard since he'd come to Miami, to block the memories of her from his mind and start afresh. It had taken years to rid himself of the almost daily images that his mind would throw at him. And it had worked, until that fateful day that had caused him to lose such a large chunk of his memory. Now all of the memories that he had worked so hard to forget had come hurtling back towards him with a vengeance.

He couldn't allow himself to be fooled by her once more; she would only end up hurting him and abandoning him to a life of misery and solitude. She had never really been there for him when it mattered; she only seemed to want him when she couldn't have him. Perhaps that was part of the appeal for her, the thrill of the chase and much like a cat that had caught its mouse, she would bore of him after a while and leave him to his own devices, to lick his wounds and carry on with what was left of the rest of his life.

Too much time had passed between the two of them, they could never go back to the way they once were, and to believe that they could would be wishful thinking. He was not naïve enough to believe that things would be better for them the second time around.

"John, none of that matters anymore," she pleaded with him as she tried to make him see things from her point of view.

"It's too late, Lori. You made your choice and now you have to live with it."

He exited the room before she could say another word as he left her there alone, just like she had done to him all those years ago.


	63. Chapter 63

Alexx's visit had been an unexpected, but welcome, surprise when she heard the doorbell chime a little after midday. She had spent the majority of the morning occupying her mind with menial tasks as she sought to keep her thoughts from what Horatio and his ex-wife might be doing.

It wasn't Horatio that she didn't trust; she knew that his honesty and loyalty would prevent him from betraying her. The thought that ate away at her was that he still wasn't as strong mentally as he used to be, there used to be a time when nothing could sway the righteous man once he had set his mind to something. He would become so focused that he would pay little attention to anything around him while he was in the pursuit of his goal. Now she wasn't so sure, his ordeal had left him questioning his strength and his worth as a man to her and the team that had always looked to him for guidance.

It had taken months for him to regain the physical and emotional strength of the man they all knew and loved, to reassert himself in the shell of the body that had been left behind. Horatio really didn't need someone from his past coming back to mess with his mind, he had been so full of self-doubt recently that she was under no illusions that Laura would have the power to make him question himself and his choices if she chose to do so.

Why had she come to Miami, to apportion more blame and guilt on him than he already felt?

Or did she have another motive entirely, had she decided that she'd made a huge mistake twenty years ago and had now decided that she wanted her husband back?

Had she the choice, she would not have let him go alone, she feared what his ex-wife would say to him, how she would try to nestle her way back into his emotions and tempt him with the life that he had once shared with her. He would not thank her for her protectiveness though; his reaction towards her well-meaning attempts to make decisions for him recently had not been favourable.

It had been such a hard habit to break though, for months she had been thrust into the role of protector as he lay in such a physically and emotionally vulnerable state. He had been unable to protect himself during that time, and she had taken it upon herself to be the one who would guard him from those that meant either of them harm.

She had wanted to protect him so badly that it had blinded her to the progress that he had been making since visiting with the therapist recently. As the old Horatio began reasserting its dominance, she could not or would not see that he needed to make decisions on his own. He had been rightly livid with her for lying to Sargent Craig and involving his old bomb squad colleague Simon in his IAB interview. She had done those things to protect him, yet he didn't see it that way. He had seen it as Calleigh trying to control him, she realised now that he would not stand for it.

As much as it hurt, she needed to let him do his own thing. Perhaps she was stifling him with her need to be close and protect him from anything she viewed as a threat. He had always prided himself on being a strong and independent man, it was only when he explained it to her in the early hours of the morning that she realised what she'd been doing to him. He'd spent so much time being out of control and having choices made for him that she had continued doing it for him even when he no longer needed her to. She wanted him to be the Horatio that she remembered, but how could he if she never let him out of her sight?

"You look like hell, Honey," Alexx crooned as she began brewing a pot of coffee, the muffins she had brought with her sat on a plate on the kitchen table.

"I didn't get much sleep last night," she shrugged in reply as she picked at the paper case of the muffin she had in her hand.

"Horatio still having nightmares?" the doctor asked with concern, she'd hoped by now that Jeff had managed to make some headway with the stubborn man.

She let out a humourless laugh. "No, it was me for once."

Alexx looked at her curiously as she sat opposite her at the table. "How come?"

"His ex-wife is in town," she replied quietly. "He's gone to meet her today…..I'm worried what she'll say to him, Alexx."

"You think he still loves her?"

That was what she loved about her friend, her ability to see beneath the surface and to get to the real issues underneath. Alexx was nothing if not insightful.

"When I saw them together the other day…..the way she looked at him…..She wants him back, I know she does."

"But he's told you that he loves you, surely you know by now that he does?"

"I know, Alexx. I just worry…..he's still so vulnerable; I just don't like the idea of her messing with his head. He doesn't need that right now."

Alexx reached out a hand and placed it on her friend's arm, trying to convey sympathy and understanding, fearing that Calleigh might not like what she was about to tell her. "What he doesn't need right now is you making things more complicated." She paused as she saw the dismayed look on the blonde woman's face. "You have to let him figure this out on his own, honey. You can't keep wrapping him up in cotton wool; he won't thank you for it."

"But I want to protect him."

"He doesn't need protecting, sweetie. He needs a partner who is going to treat him like an equal. You think he's going to appreciate you keep treating him like a child?"

"I haven't," Calleigh protested before being cut off.

"You are though. What you asked me to do the other day…..getting Simon involved in his interview….you're making it look as though you don't trust him. His ego took a big enough hit when those bastards took him; he wants you to see him as someone who's strong and capable of taking care of himself."

Calleigh's face dropped as Alexx confirmed what she had been telling herself for the last few hours. "Have I really been that bad?"

The doctor chuckled, "Honey, it's what he's needed. But not now, he needs you to let him go and trust him to make his own choices."

"But what if he chooses her?" she asked nervously, convincing herself that it could be a real possibility.

"Not a chance in Hell. That boy has got it for you bad, believe me."

* * *

**Flashback. Miami 1 week ago:**

He'd passed the Department physical and psych tests yesterday, the latter being easier than the former as his body protested at the movements it had been forced into during the hour-long assessment of his physical condition. He had always prided himself on his high pain threshold and tolerance for discomfort, but even he struggled as he blocked out the way his damaged bones and ligaments protested as he was put through his paces.

He'd flat out lied when the Department doctor asked him if he still felt any pain from his injuries, to tell the man that he did would set his return back at least another couple of weeks and that was the last thing he'd wanted. It wasn't that he disliked Calleigh's company, quite the opposite; it was the fact that he was that he was bored out of his mind being stuck in the house with nothing but his negative thoughts for company.

At least getting back to the Lab would give him something to focus on instead of his brooding. He'd found himself thinking of Calleigh far too much recently, ever since they had kissed in the car his mind had been focused on thoughts of her and how he wanted to take her in his arms and show her just how much he really did care about her. She wouldn't feel the same way though, how could she even contemplate loving a man as broken and damaged as him?

He'd convinced himself that any feelings she had for him had been borne out of pity for his situation and that she had only allowed him to stay so long out of some sort of misplaced loyalty, as if she felt she owed it to him. It was much easier to hide behind the excuses that he was too damaged to be loved rather than face the prospect of actually having a meaningful relationship with a woman. The thought of putting his heart out there and risking getting hurt was too much to bear and so he hid himself away, never letting anyone get too close to him.

But Calleigh could be as persistent and as stubborn as he sometimes; perhaps it was one of the reasons why he found himself falling hopelessly in love with her. Since they had shared that kiss she had tried to make it clear to him that she felt the same way as he did, yet he refused to allow himself to believe it. _Good things never happen to you, old man._

The doorbell chiming took him by surprise; he hadn't been expecting any visitors, especially mid-morning. One look through the peep-hole confirmed who it was as he sighed dramatically and opened the heavy wooden door.

"Alexx," he drawled by way of greeting as he saw the beaming smile of his old friend, wary as of what her intentions were towards him. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She knew the stubborn Lieutenant too well to be fooled by his outwardly placid demeanour; he would want to know the reason for her visit and would get it out of her one way or another. It was one reason why he was such a good cop and force to be reckoned with when it came to the criminal underworld of the city of Miami.

She pushed past him and made her way into the house. "I had a call from the MDPD doctor this morning; he tells me you completed your physical assessment yesterday."

"I did," he replied in an overly friendly manner, sensing that a lecture would be coming from the good doctor any moment now.

"I thought I told you to give it another couple of weeks?" her tone held a hint of disappointment as she gave him a long look, visually assessing if he was fit enough to return to the Lab.

One look at his slight frame told her that he still wasn't eating properly, he'd failed to put little in the way of weight on since his release from hospital, the only positive thing being that at least he hadn't lost anymore since his visit to her office to have the cast on his left arm removed. His appearance was still that of a man who clearly wasn't sleeping well at night, all of his physical injuries had healed, it was the emotional ones that still gave her cause for concern.

Horatio had always been a physically strong man, it was part of the reason he had survived his ordeal, had it not been for his innate stubbornness he might not have made it at all. The injuries that he had received could have killed lesser men than him, it was sheer luck and his own body's unwillingness to give in that had made the difference, even when his tortured mind had other ideas.

Although he tried to hide the small tremors that coursed through his body when he pushed himself too far, she was experienced enough to know that it would take time for that physical strength to return. She worried that his extraordinary ability to survive the closest of shaves relatively unharmed would be affected by his current physical limitations. Was he really ready to throw himself out in harm's way again, would his body be able to survive it this time if he did?

She, and her team of medical specialists, had spent far too much time piecing his body back together after the Malucci's had had their way with him, she was not going to let him throw away all of the hard work they had all done to get him back to this point on a whim.

"I'm making coffee, would you like some?" It seemed like an ideal thing to say as he felt increasingly uncomfortable with the way she was staring at him, her eyes narrowing every so often as the cogs in her brain began whirring at a steady speed. He didn't want to know what it was that she was thinking, probably some reason for him not to return to the Lab next week. He wouldn't have it though, he was going back and that was the end of it.

"I don't like it, Horatio," she told him as she reluctantly followed him to the kitchen, watching as he made his way around as if he belonged there.

He placed the coffee pot down with a sigh and turned to look at her before his gaze dropped to his hands. "I don't need you to like it, I need you to support me…..I have to do this, Alexx."

"What if you're not ready?"

He couldn't deny it himself that it was a good question, and one that he had asked himself more than once recently. He shrugged his shoulders as he spoke, "How will I ever know unless I try?"

Of course there was no answer to that and she knew it, he'd stumped her with an impossible question, knowing that she'd have no choice but to change the subject. "What does Calleigh think?"

He let out a small laugh as he poured the freshly-brewed pot of coffee into two mugs and brought them to the table. "She's not best pleased with my decision; she thinks it's too soon."

"Maybe she's right," Alexx suggested as she took a sip and gave her old friend a pointed look.

"Maybe," he agreed, "But I can't keep hiding away in here anymore…..I have to get back out there, I don't like just sitting around and doing nothing. I need to be useful."

"You know it won't be easy, don't you?"

He nodded his head and gave her a small smile. "I'll have to face it sooner or later."

"How about later?" she suggested, trying to get her obstinate friend to see things from her point of view.

"No, Alexx. I have to do this now." He was insistent that he would not be swayed into changing his mind.

They sat looking at each other for a number of minutes, before Alexx resigned herself to defeat on the subject. The longer she kept looking at him the more obvious it became that something else was eating at him, she had seen that look in his eyes before. There was something that he wasn't telling her.

"Are things ok with you and Calleigh?" she prodded gently as he took great interest in his coffee mug as he turned it around in circles on the wooden table. The way he visibly reacted to her question gave her all the answers she needed as she watched him flinch.

"We're fine," he responded quietly as he refused to look at his old colleague.

"Sugar, fess up. I'm gonna either get it out of you or I'm gonna go and ask her. Which would you prefer?" She smiled at him sweetly as he scowled at her, knowing that he would prefer that she heard it from him rather than Calleigh's rather more biased view of events.

He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed theatrically, "We…uh…we kissed," he muttered feebly.

"And?"

"And nothing, Alexx. We kissed and it was a mistake. End of story."

"I'm pretty sure neither of you thought it was a mistake when it happened," Alexx suggested as she gave Horatio a coy smile.

He shook his head. "She deserves better than me, I'm not what she needs."

Who was he trying to convince, himself or Alexx?

"But she wants you; anyone can see that by the way she looks at you."

He shook his head again, refusing to believe what Alexx was trying to tell him. "She's mistaken, she's just confused about how she feels."

"Do you love her, Horatio?"

He glanced at her briefly. "What I feel is beside the point, Alexx. I'm in no position to give her wants she wants….what she deserves."

As she looked at him she could tell that he believed every word that he was saying, had the incident with the Malucci's affected him that badly that he no longer thought he was worthy of being loved?

It tore at her to think that he had such a low opinion of himself, she knew only too well what had been done to him and how it had affected his self-esteem to be supported in the kind of everyday tasks that he had taken for granted before. He had felt completely emasculated as nurses, and his own son, had to tend to his most personal of needs. It would have been enough for anyone to get disheartened about, let alone a man as independent as Horatio.

She would not stand for his wallowing though; he had spent far too much time feeling sorry for himself recently. There would come a time when he would have to man up and come to terms with what had happened to him. Hiding away like a child scared of the dark was not befitting for a man of Horatio's stature. He had been through Hell, no one could deny that, but she would not let the man that she had grown to care for so deeply sink any further into a pit of depression.

She smiled at him sweetly as she tried to get him to understand that he was worthy of Calleigh's feelings towards him. "Sugar, there's a whole lot of you to love. What woman wouldn't want you?"

He shot her an incredulous look. "Alexx, I don't need you to patronise me. I'm an old man now….I've got nothing good to offer her except my baggage. She deserves better than that."

The doctor snorted at him. "Old, my ass! You're just making excuses now. Why don't you just tell her that you love her?"

He squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, avoiding looking at Alexx, knowing that what she was saying was right. He didn't want to hear it though; he didn't want to think about it either. "Alexx, it's not that simple….." he tried to explain before she cut him off.

"Seems pretty simple to me. You love her….she loves you, why don't you both just admit it?"

He inwardly cursed at Alexx's ability to be so insightful, how could this woman read him like an open book?

He'd been trying to hide how he felt about Calleigh for weeks now, telling himself that she had only gotten closer to him because she was helping him recover from his ordeal and that the time would come when she would pull away from him again. How many times had there been when she helped lower him down to the bed they shared and he had caught a small glimpse of her cleavage?

How many times had he wanted to reach out to her, kiss her with all the passion he could muster and tell her that he loved her?

He couldn't tell Alexx why he was unable to confess his love to Calleigh, he had to keep it a secret for fear that the doctor would admonish him and demand that he see a shrink. His ego would not allow him to admit that he could hardly bear to be touched by another person after he had been abused so brutally by his captors.

Each time Calleigh had placed a tender hand on his body and tried to initiate meaningful contact he had pulled away as images of his abuse haunted him, confusing him as to what was real and what was fantasy. The demons still haunted him so vividly that he could no longer tell their touch from Calleigh's.

The sheer volume of information that his overworked senses were sending to his brain were too much to comprehend as he felt his tired mind overload, the only answer being to escape from everything and run away until he could form a cohesive thought once more. It might have been a cowardly thing to do but at least it kept what remained of his sanity intact.

He looked at his friend desperately. "I can't, Alexx….Please, I can't do this."

She held out an arm to him but he brushed it off as he once more took himself away to brood on his own in silence.

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

The two women were distracted by a soft mewing from the far side of the room as Moses sauntered his way into the kitchen in search of food and attention.

"Well hello there," Alexx crooned as she bent down to stroke the animal. "Who might you be?"

"That's Moses, we found him injured outside on the porch a couple of weeks ago. We've kind of adopted him."

The doctor smiled and shook her head as she watched the cat tilt its head to the side as it regarded her, looking down to the ground and then back up at the new visitor to the house. "He's so like Horatio it's unnerving."

Calleigh let out a good-natured sigh. "I know...those two are usually thick as thieves. That cat follows him everywhere when he's here."

"It's the old Horatio charm, gets them every time," Alexx agreed as she smiled at her friend.

She watched as Calleigh's face fell at her words. "Sugar, he loves you…You've got to believe that."

The blonde woman gave her friend a watery smile. "I know….I just don't feel like I deserve it, not after the way I've treated him recently."

"You two are as bad as each other," Alexx tutted as she gave the other woman a sour look. "Would it surprise you to know that he thinks the same thing about you?"

"But those things I said to him…."

"Forget it and move on. Start making things right today." The words were firm but the look on Alexx's face told her that they were said with genuine love and affection. What had she ever done to deserve a friend as wonderful as her?


	64. Chapter 64

She stood there with her mouth open, unable to believe that he had walked out on her like that. She'd come to Miami with the intention of sorting things out with John and had even considered the idea of them getting back together.

Her feelings for him turned from anger to deep admiration as Andy had recounted the events that led up to her ex-husband's faked death and the terrible things that had happened to him only a few short months ago.

It had been one of the hardest things to accept, when she had heard of his death, that she had not done more to reach out to him in his time of need. Even with the passing years she had lived with guilt of not doing more for him, convincing herself that if she had just tried harder that he might still be alive.

As the shock of learning that he was still alive wore off she wanted answers to the questions that had bugged her for years. She needed to confront him and convince herself once and for all that their relationship was over for good.

Her lack of empathy for him, and her own self-involved nature, had been a deciding factor in the decision to call time on their marriage. John had pleaded with her to try to work through it, she refused and was more concerned with her own freedom and the chance to build the life and career that she wanted.

Now that she was older and wiser, it was startlingly obvious that she had made a huge mistake in letting him go. Her children were grown, middle-age had crept up on her quietly, it was only when she considered her lot in life that she realised that she had ended up single and lonely. Her children had gone off to college and were not particularly close to her, for a long time she was ok with that, now the prospect of returning home each night to an empty house seemed much less appealing.

She fully admitted to herself that she had treated him badly when they had been together, the way she had spoken to him during fights and disagreements had caused him more pain than he was likely to admit to. Her temper had always managed to get the better of her; there was something about John that just pushed her buttons. He always seemed to be able to get under her skin and drive her crazy, she never understood how much she needed that passion in her life, until it was taken away from her.

When she had been particularly cruel or nasty to him he had often took himself away, leaving the apartment until she had cooled off. The times were rare when he would fight back and say something equally as hurtful; he'd always been a gentleman to her and had removed himself from the situation before he would say something that he knew they would both regret.

Well, she was done letting him play the hero, he had become so good at painting her as the villain in all of this that she had started to believe it herself. She stormed through the hallway and found him sitting on the couch in the lounge, his hands running through his hair as he leant his elbows on his knees.

"You don't get to run away…..not anymore," she told him, leaning on the doorframe, arms folded as she watched him.

"Lori, please…." he pleaded as he looked at her desperately. "I don't know what you want from me."

"I want us to try again, John. We were so good together, you know that."

"Were we, though…..really?"

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1992: **

"Lori, I gotta get going," he told his wife as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of a chair in the lounge as he gulped down the last of his coffee and grabbed a piece of buttered toast on the way. "You sure you don't want a lift downtown this morning?"

"No it's fine. I'll take the subway to the office." She smiled at him as she admired the light blue shirt and black slacks he was wearing, reminding her that he had always looked good in black. The colour of his shirt complemented his eyes and made him look more devilishly handsome than he usually did.

After a decidedly rocky few months, they had finally managed to get their relationship back on track as the emotional wounds they had inflicted on each other slowly began to heal. There had been an icy atmosphere between the two of them for the first few weeks, neither of them had been willing to back down from their point of view, seeing themselves as the aggrieved party in the piece. They had both acted childishly, wanting to make the other suffer as they tried to make their point.

The deadlock was eventually broken when she had come home from a busy day at the DA's office the other week to find him sitting at the table in the kitchen with a bottle of wine and a vase of flowers for her. John had once again been the one to reach out and make amends with her, knowing that she would likely have stuck to her guns for a few more weeks yet.

They had spent a great deal of time talking and then the rest of the night making love, attempting to make up for lost time after weeks of fighting. The anger had served to make the sex even more exciting than usual as they went about ripping each other's clothes off, after sweeping the contents of the table onto the floor he had laid her down and shown her just how very much she meant to him.

She had woken the next morning decidedly sore, but very much satisfied, that they had worked out their differences. It felt good to wake up in his arms again after weeks of sleeping at opposite ends of the bed, to be able to watch the steady rise and fall of his bare chest as he slept with that boyish little grin on his face, reminding her of the complex feelings she held for this man.

After swallowing a mouthful of toast, he sauntered over to her and devoured her with a deep and lingering kiss before planting a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I'll see you tonight," he told her with a shy smile, the one that she found so very sexy about him.

"You will," she smiled back, tasting the coffee and toast that had recently been in his mouth. She waved him off and set about getting ready for work herself, it was imperative that she made it to the subway station on time this morning.

"Well look who's a perky little puppy today," Andy mused as he watched his young partner bound into the squad room with a contended look on his face.

For months he had to put up with his partner's foul moods as John would come in bristling for a fight after having another disagreement with Laura the night before. He was prepared to cut John a little slack, but there were times when the young detective had let his personal issues affect his professional judgement. One particular time, nearly a month ago, he had to physically restrain John from beating the life out of a suspect in a child abuse case.

* * *

The case had been tough on all of them, yet John seemed to take it personally when they had been called to the scene of what appeared to be a domestic dispute. Neighbours had called it in when they'd heard banging and screaming coming from a nearby apartment, uniformed officers had arrived on scene to find the body of a woman badly beaten on the kitchen floor. It had been too late to save her, so he and John had been called in to investigate the homicide.

"She doesn't look any more than thirty," his young partner mused as he carefully bent down to take a closer look at the body, careful not to disturb any of the forensic evidence in the room. "What do you think, Andy?"

"I reckon the husband probably did it," he replied, his tone implying that he was almost bored with the situation.

"That's what I like about you, Andy. You always state the obvious."

The older man's reply was in the form of his middle finger and an eyebrow being raised as he wandered off to talk to a uniformed officer. Andy didn't take much notice when his partner stood up abruptly and walked into the master bedroom.

It wasn't until he heard John's raised voice that he became aware that something was wrong.

"Get paramedics, I need paramedics in here!" The tone of John's voice conveyed the sense of urgency that was needed.

"What are you waiting for?" Andy shouted to one of the officers, "Call a bus!"

He shuffled into the bedroom to find John kneeling over the body of a boy who no doubt could only have been ten or eleven at the most. The child was staring up as his listless body moved in time with the chest compressions that John was attempting to give him.

"Come on, kid…..breathe!" he begged as the young boy remained lifeless. One look at him telling both men that the child had been subjected to the same kind of treatment as his mother. His clothes were blood-stained and torn and there was clear evidence that the poor boy had been kicked in the head by someone wearing heavy boots.

He watched on in shocked silence as John continued in his efforts to keep the boy breathing, only giving up when the ambulance arrived some ten minutes later.

He dragged his exhausted partner away by the arm as the paramedics began working on the child. "Let them do their job, John."

His partner looked at him desperately as his chest heaved and his arms ached at the fact that he had been working on trying to keep the boy alive for the last quarter of an hour. "He's not breathing," John spoke quietly as he winced at the sound of the paddles trying to shock life back into the gravely injured child.

Only a few moments later, the lead paramedic shook his head signalling that there was nothing else that could be done for the boy, they silently placed his lifeless body on the stretcher and removed him from the room, his vacant eyes seemed to stare at the detectives as he was carried away.

Andy placed a hand on his partner's shoulder and felt him flinch. "You did everything you could, kid…..It was just too late for him."

He grew concerned as he continued to watch John, the younger man's hands balling into fists as he screwed his eyes shut. "Why?" he growled through clenched teeth.

"Sometimes there is no reason, John."

"Bullshit!"

He watched as John stormed from the apartment and took himself off somewhere to let off a little steam. No one enjoyed cases that involved kids, but due to his own personal circumstances John seemed to be taking it harder than anyone else.

His brash young partner had seemed to make it is mission to find out who was responsible for the deaths of young Brian Evers and his mother, Mary. His sole focus being the apprehension of the monster who had taken their lives in such a cruel and violent manner.

He'd tried talking to John a number of times, trying to make the other man calm down and focus on the job at hand. He'd usually been brushed off with some kind of caustic remark and told to mind his own business. He'd never seen his partner so worked up before, the concern that his determination to find the culprit might spill over into something else grew by the day as he watched John's behaviour grow increasingly erratic.

It had all come to a head when suspicion at last fell on the ex-husband and father of Brian. He had no alibi and clear motive for the killings having been estranged from his wife for a number of months and denied visitation rights to his son. Forensic evidence had proved that Tony Evers had been present at the scene when the murders had taken place, the cruel and emotionless man didn't even seem remorseful as he admitted his guilt to the detectives.

It was obvious that the smug tone of their suspect's voice was grating on John's nerves as he watched him grow increasingly angry with Tony as they sat before him.

"You wanna do the honours, John?" he asked his partner as they stood up, satisfied that they'd taken enough of a statement to arrest Tony.

"Sure, why not?" he smirked as he pulled a pair of cuffs from the back of his belt and grabbed Tony roughly before pinning his arms behind his back. "Tony Evers, you are under arrest for the murders of Mary and Brian Evers. You have the right to remain silent, anything you do say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney…"

Tony turned his head and gave the detectives a smug smile as he interrupted them. "That snivelling little shit deserved it."

"What did you say?" John asked as pinned Tony's arms tighter behind his back.

"You heard me. That little runt probably wasn't mine anyway!"

Andy was too late to stop his partner from throwing Tony into the nearest wall as he raised his fist to him. He managed to get to John before he had caused their suspect any real harm as he pulled on his colleague's arms and got him away from the sniggering figure by the wall.

"Leave it, John," he commanded as the younger man tried to pull away from the hands that were restraining him. "He's not worth it."

"Let me go, Andy!" John's hands were still balled into fists as he made another attempt to break away and beat the living daylights out of Tony, only to find himself grabbed by the front of his shirt and directly into the face of his partner.

"Get a grip, you idiot!"

He felt himself being dragged across the room towards the door; Andy opened it forcefully and shoved him out into the hallway. "Get the hell out of here and calm down, you stupid prick. You're way out of line!"

"But he killed them, Andy," he protested as he tried to push his way back into the room.

"And how are we going to get justice for them if you beat the shit out of our suspect in the interview room?" Andy crossed his arms and stared down his precocious young partner. "I'm not telling you again…..take a hike."

He looked at his partner petulantly before straightening his shirt and getting in the older man's face. "Screw you, Andy," he huffed as he turned around and stalked away.

* * *

"You look like a man who's been getting his end away recently," Andy mused as he watched his partner sit down at the desk opposite him, smoothing his tie down as he lowered himself into his chair.

"Jealous, Andy?" he asked with a smirk.

"Nah, Laura can keep you. I've heard you're shit in bed."

The two men shared a grin; it felt good that John was finally in a better place now that his home life seemed to be back on track. John had been worse than his ex-wife with his unpredictable moods lately, he could understand why he was acting out of sorts, but he had quickly tired of his overly-emotional partner kicking up a stink every two minutes. John was a good man and a fine detective, but a complete pain in the ass when things weren't going his way. It was a relief that he finally seemed to have his head back in the game.

"What's on the agenda for today?" the burly detective asked as he popped a peanut into his mouth and crunched on it noisily.

"Nothing much," John shrugged. "I suppose we could do a few follow up interviews with the witnesses on the Welch case."

Andy shot the younger man a sour look. "Do we have to? That old lady Mitchell gives me the heebees."

He laughed at the theatrical shudder that coursed through Andy's body. "She's hot for you, Andy," he teased.

"Well, who wouldn't be?"

Any further conversation was halted by the deafening booming noise that echoed from outside the walls of the Precinct causing many of its occupants to grab onto whatever they could hold onto as the building shook. Shockwaves rippled through the area as the contents of tables and desks shook visibly, small clouds of dust cascaded from the ceiling to the ground as the movements ceased.

"What the hell was that?" a voice exclaimed from the other end of the room.

After the initial shock had worn off, John ran over to the window and gazed at the carnage outside. The colour drained from his face as realisation dawned on him; smoke was billowing up from an area no more than 300 yards down the street. He looked on in horror as he saw dozens of people stumbling from the entrance to the subway, covered in dust, dirt and blood as they held the injured portions of their bodies.

The cries and screams of the injured could be heard from the Precinct building and for a moment he stood frozen in fear, gawping at the scene below. One look at the clock on the squad room wall confirmed his worst fears. If Lori had got on the 09.05 subway train it would have been passing through this very area at the time of the explosion.

"Oh, God," he whispered as he felt his hands begin to shake. He turned to look at Andy and then ran for the stairs, not listening as his partner called to him.

"Where are you going, John?" Andy yelled as his voice was almost drowned out by the cacophony of sirens that were getting louder by the second.

"She's on there, Andy. I have to find her."

He didn't have time to explain any further as he raced down the steps two at a time, pushing people out of the way in his haste to get to the street below. It felt like a movie scene as he stood outside the ancient NYPD building, acrid smoke filled the air as he waved a hand in front of his face in an effort to see more clearly.

It was a futile gesture; the smoke was becoming thicker and darker as he ran down towards the subway station, absent-mindedly directing injured people towards the Precinct building behind him as he concentrated solely on reaching his goal.

The thick, dusty smoke made him cough as he finally reached the entrance to the subway, he pushed his way past dozens of dazed members of the public as they cried and shouted at him to help them. "Get up top," he muttered as he made his way further down the stairs.

It was sheer luck that he had remembered to put the small penlight in his suit jacket pocket this morning, as the further he descended the darker it became. He flicked the torch on and frowned at the meagre amount of light it gave out. Everything was dim, but it was bright enough to see the scene of utter devastation in front of him as the sights, sounds and smells assaulted his senses all at once.


	65. Chapter 65

The scene was complete and utter carnage, thick and acrid smoke continued to fill the platform as it belched violently from what was left of the subway train, its metal frame ripped open like a can of tuna. Red liquid stained the portions of the carriage that were immediately visible to his eyes, the smell of burnt flesh hit him forcefully as his eyes fell upon the headless body of a woman who was still desperately clinging to what was left of the child in her arms.

He turned away and vomited the contents of his stomach at the macabre sight in front of him, screwing his eyes shut and then opening them again, hoping that this was nothing more than a horrible nightmare. His eyes shot open as he heard the faint noise of a woman calling from the remnants of the train, his brain immediately convinced that it was Lori's voice that he heard.

Without a second thought to his own safety, he clambered into the broken and twisted metal and made his way to where he thought the sound was coming from. Burnt, broken and dismembered bodies were lying everywhere but he paid them no heed as he focused his efforts on finding the owner of the voice that was growing quieter by the second.

He thought he'd been too late when the small voice eventually stopped calling out, he ran a hand over his head and growled, stopping when he heard a faint whisper.

"Help me, please," the voice croaked.

The noise had sounded as if it were coming from somewhere beneath him, he moved back a few paces and realised that he had been standing in a pool of someone's blood. It was then that he saw an exposed portion of a hand underneath the debris at his feet; the hand looked like that of a young woman.

He tore at the mound of metal and debris that was covering the body, twice his hands slipped on the sharp corners of the chairs and ceiling panels that covered the injured woman but he paid them no attention as blood from the deep cuts on his hands began to mingle with that of the victim that lay beneath him.

"I'm coming, hold on," he told the woman buried underneath, praying that it his hunch was wrong, that his beloved wife was not the badly injured person lying before him.

It seemed to take hours, but finally he managed to lift the last of the metal lying on top of the woman. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that he wasn't looking into the face of Lori when he finally revealed the identity of the injured stranger.

"Thank you," she croaked as she reached out blindly to him, blood covering her face and streaming into her eyes, one of which looked badly damaged by the blast.

He gripped her hand firmly and stroked it with his thumb, "You hold on, you hear me. Rescue are on their way, you're going to be fine."

He desperately wanted to leave her and continue on his pursuit of finding Lori but each time he tried to raise himself from his knees she would grip on to him tighter and beg him not to leave. Her injuries were severe and he was doubtful as to whether she would hold on long enough for the rescue teams to arrive, there was no way that he could leave her to die alone amongst all of the chaos that had erupted when the subway train exploded. He knew that if it were him that was injured that he would not have wanted to die alone like that.

With each minute that passed his fear for his wife's safety grew, he had not heard so much as a groan from any of the subway cars further down the track. Had the people on those carriages got to safety and made it above ground without being injured?

The people on this section were either gravely injured or dead, many of them unrecognisable due to their horrific injuries, there would be little Rescue could do to save anyone here. He felt the hand gripping his own loosen slightly and he increased his efforts to keep the woman conscious.

"Hey, what's your name?" he asked her as he looked down at her injured face.

"Ca…Cathy," she coughed a few moments later.

He couldn't fail to notice the blood that had appeared at the corner of her mouth, she was beginning to have trouble breathing, his basic medical training telling him that she likely had a punctured lung or something worse. She was fading fast; all he could do was stay with her and try to keep her calm.

"That was my mother's name," he told her sadly as he moved a lock of blood-soaked hair from her forehead with his free hand.

"Wha…What's…..your name?" she gasped as her struggle to breath in enough air to stay alert began to seep the little strength she had left.

"John."

"Like…..the Baptist?"

He smiled at her, "That's right."

He watched helplessly as her chest heaved and more blood escaped from her mouth, the few drops now turning into a steady trickle.

"I'm scared, John," she told him honestly.

Gripping her hand tighter he tried to keep her conscious by sheer force of will alone, the acrid smoke in the carriage was getting thicker and making it harder for him to breathe properly himself. He wiped the sweat and grime away from his forehead with his free hand. "I'll stay with you."

Tears pricked at his eyes as he watched her struggle to keep drawing breath, her grip on his hand loosening as she stared at him with unseeing eyes, a faint smile crossing her lips as she regarded him as an angel guiding her through to the afterlife. "Tha…thank…..you," she exhaled with her last breath as her body went limp.

He was covered in her blood, kneeling in the still-warm liquid as it soaked up through his pants and made contact with his skin. He wanted to get up and leave her but couldn't, he would not leave the woman's side until he had passed her on to another who would take care of her earthly body until her spirit could rise up to the Heavens and be united with God.

He made the sign of the cross as he prayed for her safe passage to the other side. "Peace be with you," he whispered. He coughed heavily as the smoke filled his lungs and bent him over, his vision swimming momentarily before he felt the darkness creeping upon him.

His face would have met with what was left of the floor of the carriage were it not for a strong pair of gloved hands grabbing him by the shoulders and keeping him upright. He looked dazedly in the direction of the voice calling to him.

"Sir? Sir, are you injured?"

His eyes narrowed as he tried to get a clearer image of the person talking to him. All he could see was the outline of someone dressed in what looked like heavy-duty gear, a helmet and some kind of gas mask. "I'm…fine," he croaked between hacking coughs as he felt his strength leave him again.

"Let's get you out of here," the deep male voice told him as he felt himself being pulled to his feet.

He began following until he remembered the reason he'd clambered onto the wreckage in the first place. "No…my wife. I have to find her."

The stranger pulling him along ignored his pleas as he continued to be moved away further away from the other carriages that he had intended to search.

"We'll find her, sir."

The lack of clean air was beginning to make him feel dizzy, he stumbled a number of times on pieces of the wreckage and body parts of some of the unfortunate victims. "No, you don't understand," he exclaimed as he tried to free himself from the strong grip.

Soon another pair of gloved hands took hold of him and pulled him back onto the platform and into the waiting hands of a paramedic who pushed him firmly down to sit on the cold concrete floor.

"Let us check you over sir," the young female medic smiled at him as she attempted to fit him with an oxygen mask.

He began resisting immediately as the pure oxygen hit his bloodstream and cleared some of the fog that had descended over him. "No…..I have to find my wife!" His words were barely perceptible over the sounds of bolt cutters and blow torches as Rescue workers began cutting parts of the mutilated carriage away in order to reach anyone who might still be alive.

He made a move to stand up and found the tall and imposing figure of the local Fire Chief keeping him down with a large gloved hand. "Get off me, I'm a cop!" he yelled as he tried to swat the hands away that were trying to tend to him.

"I don't care if you're Batman. You're not going back in there, if your wife is in there we'll find her."

He wanted so much to push the people trying to help him away, to get past the men trying to hold him back until he had searched every last carriage of the subway train, not resting until he had found Lori one way or the other. His energy was gone though as he looked up at the medic tending to him, it was then that he felt the stinging sensation in his hands.

"Looks like you might need stitches, sir." He watched on as gauze and bandages were wrapped around each of his hands with tape to hold them in place. "You need to leave and let them do their job; they'll find your wife."

The paramedic's words sounded hollow, but he was powerless to stop himself being lead from the platform and back up the stairs that he had hurtled down sometime earlier as he raced to find any trace of Lori.

It caused him physical pain as he reached the surface; the strong rays of the mid-morning sun assaulted him after what seemed like hours in the dusty darkness of the underground. People were running around everywhere, sirens screeched and hollered as triage centres and command bases were set up on the roadside.

He found himself being pushed towards an ambulance by a group of concerned first responders who instructed him to sit on the tailgate whilst they tended to him. A blanket had been thrown around his shoulders as another oxygen mask was placed on his face. He could've sworn that he heard someone calling to him from afar; he raised his head and caught the outline of a familiar stocky figure.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Andy berated him as he got closer, wincing when he saw his soot-covered and bloodied partner sitting feebly on the floor of the ambulance.

Pulling the oxygen mask to one side, he coughed before answering. "Lori…she was on that train."

Despite the grime and blood that covered John's face, Andy could clearly see the look of pure fear. "You don't know that for sure, kid."

The younger man gave up trying to resist the paramedic who placed the mask back over his face and tutted at him to keep it on. "God, Andy…there were so many bodies…She's dead…..I know she is."

Even with the mask on his face, it was clear to see that John's bottom lip was wobbling as the adrenaline began to wear off. Andy watched as his partner's eyes filled with tears, leaving clear tracks down his dirt-covered face. He sat down heavily next to him, "She's not dead until we find a body. You got it?"

He'd been told repeatedly that he'd need to go to the nearest hospital for stitches in his hands but he refused to budge until he had definitive proof that Lori had been killed in the explosion. Minutes ticked by at an achingly slow pace as one by one the bodies of the victims were brought to the surface on stretchers covered by sheets to spare onlookers from the gruesome sight of their mutilated remains.

At least Andy had the presence of mind to fish his partner's wallet from his pants pocket, rifling through until he found a picture of Laura. He passed it on to the nearest Rescue worker and ordered him to alert them to anyone matching her description. He wasn't sure what was worse, the waiting for confirmation that they'd found her or the interminable wait they had for any kind of news at all.

"Detective Sipowicz?"

Andy turned quickly in the direction of the voice. "Who's asking?"

"Officer Patrick, sir," the young uniformed officer replied.

"Whaddya want?" he asked from over his shoulder as he returned his attention to his partner who'd begun shaking as the shock set in.

"I have a message from Dispatch, I was told to get it to you ASAP, sir."

He looked at the gangly-looking officer expectantly.

"Someone by the name of Laura Kelly rang in a few minutes ago, she's asking to speak to a…" the young man paused as he looked down at his notepad, "John Kelly?"

He couldn't contain the huge smile that crossed his wearied features as he grabbed John by the shoulders and shook him lightly. "You hear that, kid? She wasn't on the train…..she's ok!"

John looked at him in confusion, unsure as to whether he'd heard his partner correctly or not. He had little time to get his head round it as Andy pulled him to his feet and back in the direction of the Precinct, slapping his back as he stumbled along with him.

* * *

The rest of the day passed him by without a second thought as Andy drove him to the ER where his hands were stitched and bandaged properly. They had stuck him with numerous needles, tetanus shots, numbing agents, the lot. He paid them little notice as he stared straight ahead, even ignoring his grumbling partner who was trying to get him to respond to whatever he'd been saying.

The sights and sounds around him had been drowned out by the images of the torn and twisted subway carriage and the mutilated bodies that were strewn across it, all the while thinking that one of the dead could so easily have been Lori.

He'd spoken to her briefly back at the Precinct as she assured him that she'd been running late and had caught a cab to the office instead. Her primary concern had been for him as her ears picked up on the distracted nature of his single word responses.

Andy had driven him back to the apartment; he followed his partner blindly as he continued to walk around as if in a daze. A mug of coffee had been shoved into one of his injured hands as Andy lowered his bulky frame onto an armchair opposite the couch.

"You ok, John?" he asked with concern evident in his voice.

For the longest time, he didn't answer as he closed his eyes and was once more confronted with the image of Cathy, the woman he'd found beneath the wreckage and how she had begged him not to leave her as she lay dying in a pool of her own blood.

"John?"

He looked up at his partner, his dazed eyes not really focusing on the man before him. "It could have been Lori," he whispered.

"It wasn't. She's fine, what about you?"

He didn't understand why Andy was asking him if he was ok; he was still in one piece. Unlike poor Cathy.

Fear struck at the heart of Andy as he regarded his shell-shocked partner, John had been distant and distracted since he'd found him bloodied and covered in grime by the ambulance earlier that morning. He'd seen with his own eyes the horrific injuries of some of the survivors; just how much worse were the victims John had seen below ground?

"Get some rest, kid. Go and get your head down for a few hours."

He'd taken Andy's advice and made his way slowly to the bedroom but each time he'd closed his eyes he'd been confronted with the gruesome images of the remnants of the train carriage and the last dying words of the woman he'd tried to save.

He must have dozed off at some point as he heard the front door open and close, he opened his eyes to find the room bathed in darkness and assumed that it was now early evening. He made to rub at his face with his hands but regretted it when a stinging pain shot through them at the movement, his fingers were stiff and sore as he tried to move them and inject a little feeling back into them. He looked up as a gentle female voice called to him.

"Hey, how you doing?" she asked him tenderly as she sat beside him on the bed.

He told himself that he would never take her for granted again, he pulled her close and pinned her with a searing kiss, only breaking away when he needed to get more air into his lungs. "I thought I'd lost you," he gasped as he lent his forehead against hers and closed his eyes.

Cupping his face with her hands, she placed a soothing kiss on his lips. "I'm right here."

He'd looked so lost that she couldn't help but want to take care of him that night, her deeply-buried maternal instinct coming to the fore as she tended to him, letting him have his way with her in an almost desperate fashion as he fought to convince himself that she was still here with him. She'd held him as he eventually fell asleep at some point in the early hours of the morning.

His thrashing arms were the first thing to alert her to his distress as he reached out blindly in his sleep, calling to someone repeatedly, his voice becoming more distraught by the second.

"Shhh, it's ok," she crooned in his ear.

It had little effect as he sat bolt upright in bed and let out a loud cry, his chest heaving and eyes bulging as he came back to awareness with frightening force. He looked at her as sweat poured from his brow, his arms and chest also soaked with perspiration.

"Are you ok?"

He said nothing, he just continued to look at her as he breathed heavily, shaking his head.

"Come on…..come here." She pulled him back down towards the pillows and kissed his damp face as she used her hands to rub soothing circles over his bare skin. "Close your eyes. I won't leave you….I promise."

Her words seemed to permeate through the fog in his brain as he gradually relaxed and fell back into a dreamless sleep, only waking again when the alarm clocked beeped itself into life at a little after six in the morning.

"Stay in bed," she told him as she kissed him good morning. "No one expects you to go in today after what happened."

He groaned as he sat up in bed. "No, I'm going to drive you in today."

"No you're not."

"Lori, I'm not letting you go in by yourself. I almost lost you yesterday."

"I wasn't on the subway, I told you that," she said in an exasperated tone, trying to reason with him.

"But you could have been…..that could have been you that I watched die yesterday. I'm not letting you go anywhere by yourself." His tone was insistent and firm as he pulled himself to the edge of the bed and stood up, swaying slightly before righting himself.

"I don't need a babysitter, John." She could feel her hackles rising at the condescending manner in which he was speaking to her.

Placing his hands on his hips, he shot her a fierce look as he raised his voice. "You're my wife and I'm driving you to work, that's the end of it!"

The shock of his tone caused her to stop what she was doing and look at him incredulously. Shaking herself out of her stupor, she stomped over to the dresser and began pulling out clothes violently before throwing them on the bed.

"I'm your wife, not your Goddamn property!" she shouted back at him. "You don't get to tell me where I go or what I get to do."

He ran a hand through his already-tousled hair. "Lori…I want to keep you safe," he pleaded, trying to make her understand how close he'd come to losing her yesterday.

"I can look after myself thank you very much. I've lived in New York all my life and I've done just fine so far."

"Lori, it's dangerous out there. You could get hurt."

She threw her arms up in annoyance. "So could anyone," she retorted as she began getting dressed for work.

"Lori…you don't understand….."

"No, you don't understand. I'm an adult and I'll make my own decisions and take myself to work. I don't need your permission."

She left him standing there, giving him a clear signal that the topic was not up for further discussion.


	66. Chapter 66

**Present day. Miami:**

She watched him as he sat on the couch, wringing his hands together. He looked as if he were lost in his thoughts until her soft voice caught his attention.

"You were too much for me at times, John. I needed my own space."

He looked at her briefly and let out a small, humourless laugh. "I only wanted to keep you safe."

Feeling slightly bolder, she made her way over to the couch and sat next to him. "There's a difference between wanting to protect someone and smothering them." She reached out for his hand and squeezed it, relieved when he didn't immediately pull it away.

"I'd lost so many people close to me because I couldn't protect them. You were my wife…..it was my job to keep you safe." His blue eyes took on a deeper hue as she saw the depth of his sadness.

"It wasn't anyone's job to keep me safe. I just wanted you to love me."

"I did…I loved you so much."

She let out a deep sigh, no matter how delicately she put it; he would likely mistake the meaning of her words. "You were trying to control me, can't you see that?" He looked at her, genuinely confused and so she tried to explain herself again. "The way your father died…..it made you so desperate not to lose anyone else that you were blind to what you were doing. You can't protect people from every single eventuality…..life doesn't work like that."

"I know," he whispered as his head dropped. "I'm sorry."

They sat that way for an hour or more in contemplative silence as they digested the words they had spoken to each other over the last few hours. They'd remained side by side, joined by their hands as she ran her thumb over the damaged and scarred left hand of the man she had loved and lost back in New York.

She raised the hand to get a better look at the calloused surface and bent fingers, her movements caught his attention as he turned his head to look at her.

"They did this to you?" she asked quietly.

He nodded his head as he tried to gently disengage from the physical contact. "It was my choice, Lori…I would have done it all over again if it meant keeping you safe….keeping you all safe."

She could sense his willpower diminishing as they looked into each other's eyes; she leant closer to him as their foreheads touched. "You're a good man, John. I'm sorry it took me so long to realise what I had with you."

He closed his eyes; he could feel her warm breath on his face and felt the touch of her soft lips as they made contact with his. He wanted to lose himself in her, to feel her body writhe under his touch as he made her scream his name in ecstasy. The smell of her….the taste of her took him back to a time and a place when things seemed so much easier. He wanted so desperately to go back there….to stay there forever…..

_It's a trick! _His subconscious screamed at him as it hurled images of the beautiful woman waiting for him back at home, a woman he had promised to be faithful to. A woman he had promised his heart and his love to.

God, this was so hard. Was it possible to love and want two women at the same time?

In one last futile effort, his passion-clouded brain threw another long-forgotten memory from his past at him.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1993:**

The flashbacks and nightmares had continued for months as he was haunted by the images that he had seen on that fateful day last year. Lieutenant Fancy had ordered him to attend counselling sessions with the Department's resident shrink; he'd attended them under duress, knowing that he'd be pulled from active duty if he didn't.

He paid little consideration to the clichéd phrases that the man had spouted at him, he just sat there and nodded his head, giving stock responses to the questions he was being asked. He had no desire to sit in front of some shrink who couldn't care less about him or the utter devastation he had witnessed that day. All the therapist had been concerned about was ticking a few boxes on a sheet so that he could sign his latest client off and make his way onto the next one. Police officers saw the worst that humanity had to offer every day, for every good deed there were a thousand more horrific scenes that they would be called to come across and investigate. There were simply too many officers who had seen too much evil in their lives for the understaffed and overworked Psych Services to be able to pay the required amount of attention to each case.

There were other officers out there who had witnessed things much worse than he had, he told himself, as he left his fourth and final session with the shrink. He'd sat before him and lied through his teeth, making all the encouraging noises that he would be expected to give in response to the therapist's questions. Yes, he was feeling fine. No, he wasn't having any flashbacks or nightmares. Yes, he was getting on fine with his work colleagues and loved ones.

They were lies of course. The nightmares, although lessened in their frequency, were still horrific and unnerving when they crept up on him and caught him unaware. He'd managed to keep his cool with his colleagues for the most part, they viewed him as a hero for what he'd done that day even though he'd done nothing but hold a dying woman's hand as he knelt beside her, helpless to do anything to save her. The other detectives in the squad room had cut him a little extra slack during the times that he'd reacted unexpectedly to certain sights and sounds, their patience with him would not be unending though, sooner or later they would tire of his erratic moods and behaviour.

It was his relationship with his wife that had suffered the most, at first she had been understanding of the traumatic events that had occurred. She'd held him as he woke after another terrifying dream night after night, soothing him back to sleep with gentle words of encouragement and her soft hands and lips.

As the weeks passed, she grew increasingly frustrated with his inability to put the incident behind him, asking him a number of times to sleep on the couch so that he didn't disturb her.

"I've got court in the morning, you know how important this case is," she would tell him tiredly, and each time he would shakily lift himself from the bed and try his best to drift off to sleep again on the couch, feeling cold and alone without her by his side to keep the demons at bay.

He knew her job was important to her, but what about him?

Lori seemed to have little or no consideration as to what he was going through; he'd wanted to open up and talk to her a number of times but had often found himself shut down as she tired of the conversation being centred solely on him and his needs. So he chose to internalise it instead, keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself until it became a habit, his coping mechanism of choice. People didn't care what he was going through, they didn't care about the images that assaulted him each day, the cries of the injured passengers and the woman he couldn't save.

He chose to lose himself in his work instead, believing that Lori had little interest in anything he had to say. As long as the conversation revolved around her and what she wanted to talk about they would be ok, every time he raised a subject for discussion she would shut him down or walk away, sometimes hurling a caustic and hurtful remark his way.

His resentment of her treatment towards him began to gnaw at him, he'd devoted the last three and a half years of his life to her and she treated him no better than if he were some kind of servant, there to be picked up and put down when she felt like it. Sex was on her terms and only when she wanted it, all other times she would be distant, almost cold in the way she treated him, pushing him away when he made amorous advances towards her, acting as if he was some kind of sex pest.

It was becoming clear that they were living separate lives, coming home each night and barely speaking to each other. The times that they did speak would often lead to arguments as she screamed and raged at him, calling him names and using her highly articulate vocabulary to cut him down to size and belittle him, chipping away at his ego and self-respect.

He'd let her speak to him like that without rejoinder a number of times, the sharp comments were primed and readied to be thrown back in her direction but he stopped himself, knowing that she would be hurt by his words. He loved her too much to want to hurt her, so he chose to ignore her and keep to himself. They slept on separate sides of the bed and barely kissed goodnight anymore, often coming in at different times in the evening to find the other already in bed and feigning sleep.

This was not how he imagined married life would be, what had happened to the fun-loving Lori, the woman who was more than eager to be swept up in the waves of passion that had defined the early part of their relationship?

It seemed like she barely had the time to talk to him anymore and when she did it would usually be something sarcastic or a criticism aimed in his direction. He loved her and had let her get away with her poor treatment of him for too long, there came a time when his ego would not stand for it anymore. He had reached his limit with his wife and her acerbic putdowns of the man she was so supposed to love, for better or worse.

He'd been steeling himself all day, psyching himself up for the argument that was likely to come when he finally confronted Lori about the state of their relationship. It was make or break time, by the end of the evening they would know the direction in which their marriage was heading. He prayed silently that she would be receptive to his words as he tried to explain the deep-seated unhappiness he was feeling at the moment.

He'd left the Precinct early, explaining the situation to Andy who was once again understanding of his young partner's troubled relationship with his wife. Andy had offered to cover the last hour and a half on his own; allowing him to get home and prepare what he believed was Lori's favourite meal.

The truth was that he had no idea if she even still liked chilli, there were so many things he didn't know about her anymore. She had changed considerably since the day their eyes had met across the squad room, so much so that he didn't even know what it was she wanted from him anymore.

To him it was simple, he loved her and wanted to care for her and protect her. Why couldn't she see that he took his marriage vows seriously?

All he wanted to do was be the man that she wanted, the man who would be the one to give her everything she had ever needed. The man who wanted to treat her like a princess and be the prince that he felt she deserved.

Lori had continually moved the goal posts, her needs and wants changing in time with her fickle moods. What was acceptable one day would not be the next, he had never met a woman as complicated and infuriating as her, yet he loved her despite of it. He loved this woman and would take her faults and insecurities and accept her despite of them. No matter which way he cut it, he was hopelessly, madly and blindly in love with her.

The sound of the front door opening and slamming shut made him jolt in the chair he was sitting in, he'd been too lost in his thoughts to realise that time had passed so quickly. His wife stood before him, stone-faced and looking tired.

"What's this?" she asked with a frown as she placed her handbag down and shrugged her coat off.

"I made dinner….we need to talk, Lori."

"There's nothing to talk about," she huffed as she blew a lock of hair out of her face and slipped her shoes off, heading for the kitchen area to pour herself a glass of wine, only to find her hand stopped by his firm grip as he handed her a glass he had poured earlier.

"You think cooking me a meal and giving me wine is going to get me in bed?"

There was no hint of humour in her voice as she took a gulp of the red wine and stared at him, waiting for an explanation for his actions.

He decided to ignore her goading, knowing that she wanted to pick a fight with him so that she could be validated in her reasons for pushing him away. "Lori…..we can't carry on like this, something's gotta give."

She stood staring at him for what seemed like an eternity before swallowing another mouthful of wine and making herself comfortable at the dining table. He took it as a sign that she was at least willing to sit down and hear him out.

They had barely said a word to each other as they sat in awkward silence eating their dinner. His continued reticence to speak was beginning to irritate her.

"Well talk then," she commanded as she glared at him.

He took another gulp of his own wine; he needed to fortify himself before starting. "Things haven't been right between us for a while. I'm not sure what it is that you want from me anymore."

"I don't know what it is that I want…..but I know I don't want this anymore," she responded tiredly. "The constant fighting, the uncomfortable atmosphere….this isn't what I want from life, John."

"Me neither," he responded quietly. "What are we going to do about it?"

"I don't think that there is anything we can do." Her voice held a tone of genuine sadness as she refused to look at the man she had married, the man she still loved but could no longer live with.

He looked as if he'd been slapped in the face as his brain registered what she had just said. "No, Lori," he pleaded as he leaned across the table and made a desperate grab for her hand.

She pulled it away before he could reach it. "I won't change who I am for you, John….I don't expect the same from you either."

He stood quickly and knelt beside her, placing a hand on her knee, dismayed when she flinched at his touch. "Tell me what to do…..what to change and I'll do it, I swear."

She shook her head. "There's no point, you'll only end up hating me for it. You can't change to please me…..it's not going to work."

"But we can make it work, Lori. We just have to try."

She growled in exasperation. "You're not getting it. I don't want to try, John…I'm done trying, I don't want to fight anymore."

"But I love you," he told her desperately, as if that would change what she was saying and rectify the issues that were rife in their marriage.

"It's not enough, John."

He stood up quickly and ran a hand through his hair, his shock now turning to anger that the woman he loved could turn away from him so easily. He'd given everything to her, how could she not even want to try to save their marriage?

"So that's it, we're over?"

Her head nodded as he saw the tears in her eyes. It was too late for the crocodile tears now; she'd just ripped his heart straight from his chest and stomped on it with her high-heeled shoes.

He wanted to cry, to show her how much he was hurting, but he refused to let her see what she'd just done to him. His whole world had been ripped apart and she couldn't seem to care less that she was the cause of his anguish; she just sat there with her head bowed, refusing to look at him.

Suddenly, the apartment he was standing in seemed like some kind of foreign land as everything he had built and shared with Lori quickly crumbled to dust around him. The walls were closing in; he had to get out of here before he did something that he would regret for the rest of his life. He quickly shoved a few items into a bag and left the apartment that he shared with the woman he loved; somehow he knew that this was it. Their marriage was over.

He was leaving the world he had known behind as he slowly closed the door, resigned to the fact that there was nothing he could say or do to convince Lori to change her mind. Now he was faced with the prospect of picking up the pieces of his shattered life and trying to put them back together again.

He stopped at a payphone and dialled a familiar number, relieved when the person on the other end answered and was sympathetic to his situation, he once more picked up the duffle bag with what was left of his life and made his way to Andy's apartment with his tail firmly wedged between his legs.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

Her tongue was in his mouth as her hands ran through his short auburn hair, the hands moved lower as she began pulling at the dark blue shirt he was wearing, trying desperately to pull it out of the waistband of his jeans. His hands rested on her hips as he pulled her onto his lap, his hands soon groping at her backside, feeling the top of her panties as his hands travelled to every inch of her he could find.

Their breathing quickened as the felt the flames of passion begin to heat between them again, they had always known just what to do to turn each other on. For all of their differences and personality clashes, they had always been perfect together when it came to the physical side of their relationship. She was driving him crazy as she moaned into his mouth as their tongues and hands duelled for dominance, both of them wanting the upper hand and to be in control of the moment.

He was losing his senses around her, he always had. No matter what she had done or how she had treated him, he would willingly come back for more. Lori was his drug, an addiction that he had been denied for so long, as the taste of her hit him again he knew he was hopelessly lost, defenceless against her passionate assault on his body. He craved the lust and thrill of her desperate hands on his bare skin as she made short work of the buttons on his shirt, her hands travelling further south as she undid his belt and fly and began massaging his groin.

Her touch was firm and assertive, her intentions clear as to just how she wanted this moment to end as her hand found its way through his boxers to a very intimate area. He closed his eyes and groaned into her neck as he kissed her with a fevered passion, a passion that was overriding his rational thinking as one by one, he lost complete control of his senses.


	67. Chapter 67

_He opened his eyes and she was there, smiling down at him with tears in her eyes. The outline of her face was fuzzy at best, but the blonde hair that cascaded down past her shoulders was unmistakably that of the woman who had been the last thing on his mind before everything had turned black._

_He'd been on the Malucci's boat, staring up into the face of a heavy-set and mean-looking man, the fists of the shaven-haired brute were raised before they began quickly descending towards his abdomen. He felt what little air that was left in his body leave in a rush as the thug's fist connected with his solar plexus. He attempted to turn on to his side in an effort to protect himself from the violent onslaught that rained down on him._

_He felt himself being pulled onto his back again; he was no match for the other man in his weakened state. He'd let them all down, it was here that he would die and forever be remembered as the man that had betrayed the people he'd loved. It was too late, there was nothing left to be done but accept the finality of his situation._

_He would take only one regret to the grave with him, the fact that he had never told the blonde angel that had been a constant at his side these last few weeks that he loved her. He barely knew her, yet he knew that with his body and soul he loved her and somehow knew that he always had._

_He could have sworn that he heard the timer beeping in the engine room, signalling that it had reached zero and that the bomb beneath it was primed for detonation in the coming moments. He felt the vibrations coursing through the boat before he heard the deafening noise of the explosion as the oxygen was sucked from the room, he felt the pressure increasing and felt as if he were being torn to pieces in agonising fashion. Her name was on his lips as everything turned black._

_"Calleigh….."_

He came back to his senses abruptly and gasped, horrified to find himself nearly naked with his ex-wife. What had he done?

What had he been about to do?

He pulled away from her violently as he stood up, stumbling in his haste to get away from her, zipping up his fly and tightening the belt on his pants as he made his way to the other side of the room, wanting to get as far away from Lori as possible. She was no good for him; surely he knew that by now?

"John, what's the matter?" she asked as she watched him swiftly do the buttons of his shirt up. He'd responded to her touch, the years that had passed had done nothing to cool the passion between them, what had made him pull away so suddenly?

He ran a ragged hand over his face, shocked at what he had almost done with Lori. He'd been so consumed by his desire to feel her soft skin beneath his hands, to feel the hunger that she had for him and his touch, that he had allowed it to cloud his judgement. After everything Calleigh had done for him, how could he have been so foolish as to nearly throw it all away over a woman who had broken his heart so many years ago?

Lori was no good for him, she never had been. She would only end up breaking his heart, everything that he had been through would have been for nothing. He was fooling himself if he thought that the passing years had done anything to calm her fickle ways when it came to him. He would once again be lost in his confusion as she blew hot and cold with him, never letting him know where he stood with her.

"Lori…..you need to leave," he growled as he kept his back to her. He couldn't bear to see her, if his eyes set upon her he knew his strength would be sapped by her doe-eyed expression. He would feel the need to comfort her once more, to soothe away the pain that he'd caused her. Comfort and soothing would quickly turn into something else, turn him into someone else. Turn him into a man that he wasn't, a man that he could never be.

She watched him as his shoulders shook and his chest heaved, this certainly wasn't part of the man she remembered. John was always up for it, if sex was offered up he would take it without question, even when they had finalised the divorce, he would never give up an opportunity to be intimate with her.

Making her way quietly over to him, she placed a hand on his back and gasped when he flinched and made a move to get away from her once more.

"Stay away from me!" he growled through gritted teeth, the muscles in his jaw clenching with tension as he kept his back to her.

She was partly annoyed and partly offended that he had turned away from her and spurned her advances, did he think that she was no longer attractive anymore?

"It's not like you to turn down a free hop in the sack," she huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

He turned quickly, so quickly that the pace at which he moved frightened her as he stared at her with almost feral eyes. "I'm not the man you knew…..not anymore."

"Yes you are. You still love me…..I know you do." She made her way towards him again, he bolted from his position knocking over the free standing lamp as he did so, causing it to crash to the ground and smash.

"Don't come near me. Don't touch me," he warned, his voice dangerously low.

Frightened by the level of hostility that he was displaying towards her, she backed away and softened her stance towards him. Never in all of the years that they had spent together had he ever looked this angry or out of control. John was normally so placid when it came to her, she had been the one who would descend into histrionics whilst he tried to calm her down and tame the wild beast that raged inside of her.

He looked at her as though he were a cornered animal, primed to pounce at any moment. His hands were clenched into fists by his side as he stood staring at her, his chest heaving. His behaviour was new to her, and for the first time in her life, she began to feel a little scared of him. What had those bastards done to him to turn him into such a mess?

This wasn't the man she knew, the happy-go-lucky John that was up for anything. He'd been replaced by a man who had been worn down by years of pain and suffering, he was a man that she almost no longer recognised.

"John, this isn't you," she began holding out a hand in supplication.

"You have no idea who I am anymore," his voice was still dangerously low, the smoky tone that she once found so much of a turn-on was now beginning to unnerve her. "You lost the right to know me a long time ago."

"We can talk about this….I just want to make things right, we can make things better."

"There's nothing left to talk about. It's over."

Hadn't she said the same things to him when their marriage ended?

He had pleaded and begged her to give their relationship another go, she'd made up her mind though, there was nothing left for them to discuss, they would only end up hating each other if they'd tried.

How awful it felt now that the boot was on the other foot, she had come here to try to make him see that she'd realised what a bitch she had been back in New York. She wanted him to know that she'd never stopped loving him, even when she thought he was dead, there were still days when she would think of him and what they'd had together.

He was the one with all the power now and she hated it, getting first-hand experience of what it must have felt like for him when she called time on their marriage. Now she was the one with the broken heart, the one who would be left to pick up the shattered pieces of their life, the one who would be forced to start again on their own.

"You need to leave. Go back to New York; go back to your children."

She flinched at the coldness of his tone; the dismissive way he spoke to her was so unlike the man she used to have wrapped around her little finger. No longer could she toy with his affections in the way she had before, he would no longer be a willing participant in her childish games.

"What if I don't want to?" was her petulant response. Her pride had taken a huge blow to know that she could no longer do as she see fit around him.

"There's nothing for you here. Go home."

"But I love you." Her response was desperate but she was all out of choices right now, it seemed as if a good a time as any to play her trump card.

"If you love me then you'll go…..you'll leave me to get on with the rest of my life." His voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper as he looked at her with those sad blue eyes.

"Without me in it?" she asked, already resigned to the answer he would give her.

"Yes."

He turned away from her, his heart aching to take her in his arms and soothe away the pain that he had caused her. There was no other way, he had to make a choice, whichever option he chose he knew that he would end up hurting someone. Lori was his past, a love that he had lost a long time ago. Calleigh was his future, the only woman who had ever truly loved him for what he was.

Lori had tried her best to convince him that he was making a mistake but the passing years had served to make him wise to her games. With Calleigh by his side, he knew he had the strength to make the right choice and that choice left no room in his life for his ex-wife. To have her close by and know that he sent her away would eat at him day after day; it was best if she left Miami and returned to her life in New York. Putting distance between them would make it easier not to think of her every day and the look of crushing disappointment on her face as he told her that he no longer wanted her in his life.

He'd been weak enough to kiss her and almost fall for her charms, his mind had saved him from making the biggest mistake of his life. Being with Lori again had initially felt good, but soon he realised just how wrong it was to want to be intimate with her. She would never be any good for him, she never had been. He knew deep inside that he had made the right choice in giving his heart to Calleigh and not the pale imitation of the woman he had loved so many years ago.

His past was his past and he could never go back, no matter how much he wanted to. Being with Calleigh had given him the strength to know that he had made the correct decision, it was one that he would stand by, no matter how hard Lori tried to convince him otherwise.

_Don't look at her. Just let her go,_ his inner voice commanded him as he heard her sob quietly behind him. He felt like such a bastard for hurting her, yet he knew that he had no choice. This was the way it had to be. The way it should be.

He doubted that she would hurt for long; the tears were most likely a by-product of her unhappiness at not getting her own way. It was best that she go back to New York to lick her wounds, to go back to hating him the way she had done for the last twenty years.

He let out a sigh of relief as he heard her stomp towards the kitchen to grab her purse. Her footsteps paused in the hallway and he had no doubt that she was shooting daggers at him with her eyes as he continued to ignore her. The front door slammed shut, a symbolic gesture of what had just occurred, he had sent Lori packing and shut the door on his past with her. There was nothing good there anymore, only pain and misery. He had closed the door on that part of his history, determined to move on in his new life with Calleigh.

He cursed himself for being foolhardy enough to contact Lori yesterday on his cell phone as she repeatedly tried to call him over the next few hours. Sensing that he would not pick up, she began to bombard him with text messages instead. Everything was a mess, all he wanted was a few quiet moments to himself in order to regain his equilibrium, and none of them would pay him the courtesy of leaving him be.

Since he'd woken in hospital for the first time, with no memories of his time in Miami, there had always been someone there with him, hovering and fretting as to whether he was ok, watching over him as if he were some feeble child that needed protecting.

After years of loneliness and solitude, the fact that he had people around him who cared came as a relief, that he had a team that loved him and wanted to protect him. Since waking for the second time, the people that claimed to care about him so deeply refused to let him be. Didn't they understand that he didn't need constant supervision, that he was a man who was capable of taking care of himself? He'd done it for years without anyone's help, he didn't need to be constantly mothered and he certainly didn't want to be made to sit down and talk about his past and the terrible tragedies that had befell him.

No, he just wanted to be left alone, just for a moment not being cajoled or pressured into revealing his inner thoughts to a well-meaning person who claimed to care for him. If they had really cared for him then they would give him the space that he so desperately needed to work through the myriad of emotions that were swirling through his mind.

Their protective nature made him feel claustrophobic, their hands clinging onto him tighter and tighter until he felt unable to breath anymore. The need to break free from their stifling insistence on crowding him was fast becoming more than he could bear. He wanted to shout, to scream at them all to leave him, just for a minute, to catch his breath and find some solid ground to on which he could regain his equilibrium.

Sitting with knees raised and his back against the wall, he watched his phone light up and vibrate noisily as it skipped across the carpeted floor. The constant ringing like a thousand hummingbirds pecking at his head, he picked the irritating device up and slung it across the room until it hit the far wall, smashing into pieces and falling silent at last.

The silence of the room felt wonderful as he rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, dusk descending on the room and filling it with its darkened hue. This is what he'd wanted, for the creeping hands of darkness to envelop him and draw him close, in the darkness there was solitude, an unspoken understanding that he would be left to his own devices, no longer pressured to say or do what was expected of him. Here in the dark, he was allowed to just be.

Had he been so lost in his thoughts that he'd failed to hear Andy entering the house?

The deep voice of his former partner had certainly taken him by surprise as the light flickered on and bathed the room in artificial light.

"Well, you look like hell," Andy mused as his eyes scanned the room, noticing the fallen lamp and the broken remnants of a cell phone in the far corner of the room. "That explains why you weren't answering your phone I suppose."

He looked at Andy, tired beyond words. This was all too much for him, his life had become too much. He opened his mouth to speak before he realised that he had no idea what to say.

The older man awkwardly lowered himself down next to his friend, no mean feat considering his age and weight, adopting the same pose as that of the man he had come to visit. "Should I ask how things went with Laura?"

He could do nothing but open his mouth and shake his head, his ability to speak all but deserting him.

"You wanna talk about what happened?"

"Andy…" That was all he could manage as he looked at him, his eyes brimming with tears.

There would be time for words later, lifting his arm he draped it over the other man's shoulder and pulled him closer, reminiscent of a scene so similar, yet so many years ago.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1993:**

The call he'd received this evening was certainly not the one he'd been expecting. He'd listened carefully that morning as John told him eagerly of his plans to smooth things over with his wife Laura. He'd had it all planned out, what he would say, what he would do, he was a man on a mission to repair the cracks in the relationship with the woman he loved. John could be an unstoppable force of nature when he put his mind to something and so he'd offered to cover for him at the end of the shift so that his amorous young partner could set his plans into motion.

He hadn't been expecting to hear from John at all tonight, presuming that his randy colleague would be too busy with getting his end away, for that was how he and Laura usually made up after their fights. He would have to sit opposite the smug young man as he sat at his desk the next day looking like the cat that got the cream, wishing it was him that was still as young and virile and obviously oh so attractive to the opposite sex.

By the broken sound of John's voice he knew something was wrong, terribly wrong. The poor man sounded on the verge of tears as he struggled to get the words to leave his mouth. "It's over," his partner squeaked out before his mouth became muffled by the presence of his hand. "Oh God, Andy."

He'd commanded him to stay where he was, grabbing his keys and jacket hastily, he shuffled from his apartment and jumped in his car, intent on finding his partner before the young man did something stupid. He ignored the honks of displeasure from other drivers as he weaved in and out of traffic in an effort to get to the payphone that John had called him from a few short minutes ago.

His heart sank when he found that John had ignored his pleas, he was nowhere to be seen. He drove around the block a few times until he saw that unmistakable red hair, the shoulders slumped as John carried a duffel bag over his shoulder. It had begun to rain heavily and the poor man was soaked to the bone, yet he didn't seem to care at all.

He pulled over and wound the window down. "John, get in the car."

His partner ignored him as he kept his gaze ahead and trudged on. Swearing under his breath, Andy jumped out of the car and pulled his jacket over his balding head even though it provided little cover from the elements. He stood his ground as he made John stop in his tracks. "Get in the Goddamn car," he growled.

John looked at him with unfocused eyes, the man had likely been crying, it was impossible to tell with the rain hammering down, beating them both mercilessly in the face with its ferocity. His partner had all but checked out on him, deciding that affirmative action was required; he grabbed John by the elbow and dragged him towards the car before running round the other side and getting in the driver's seat.

Chancing a look at John, he was dismayed to find that he still had that vacant expression on his face. The man was completely drenched and had begun to shiver as he sat staring blankly ahead, not appearing to hear a word that Andy was saying to him. John had finally come back to some sort of awareness when he'd finally pulled up outside his apartment block.

"It's over," he murmured as he looked at Andy. "I've lost her."

They could sit in the car all night and cry over their broken hearts, the fact remained that the car was cold and damp whereas his apartment was warm and dry. Common sense prevailed as he spotted a let-up in the torrential downpour. "C'mon, kid. Let's get inside."

He let out a sigh of relief as John reached for the door handle and climbed slowly out of the car, following his partner silently as they made their way up two flights of stairs. He opened his front door and ushered John in, shaking his head as the young man stood still, the water dripping off of his slight frame in a steady stream as it began forming puddles on his wooden floor.

"Go and grab a shower, you'll freeze your nuts off staying in those clothes."

John looked at him in confusion until his eyes followed Andy's to the wet clothes clinging to his body. He nodded his head slowly and trudged to the bathroom, but not before a memory blindsided him. The last time he had been here had been the morning that he'd married Lori, how could their marriage have soured so quickly?

He wanted to cry, to hit something…..anything. He finally let his fury unfurl as he smashed his fist against the mirror in the bathroom, not recognising the wearied man that had been reflected back at him. He felt the stinging sensation in his hand and stared at it, transfixed at the blood that dripped from the open wounds on his knuckles down into the sink.

Looking back up into the fragmented mirror, it seemed symbolic that the broken glass represented so much of how he was feeling right now.

His life and his heart were shattered, crushed like the tiny pieces of glass that were embedded in his skin.


	68. Chapter 68

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful friend, Jasmine105. Thank you sweetie xxxx **

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

Alexx had left by early afternoon, having stayed longer than either of them had intended. It felt nice to have a friendly face to talk to; a bonus considering that the last time she had spoken to the kind doctor it had almost cost them their friendship.

That was one of the good things about Alexx, she never held a grudge. Although she now realised that she had been foolhardy in the extreme to ask her friend to lie to Sargent Craig, the doctor knew her well enough to know that her heart was in the right place and that her intentions were pure. After all, they were united by the same thing, wanting what was best for Horatio.

She had felt so helpless over the preceding months when Horatio had needed the skill and support of Alexx and her medical team to recover from his injuries, there wasn't much for her to do but sit by his bedside and murmur soothing words in his ear as he lay helpless in a hospital bed. Those times that he had fought against his own body's weakness, she had been powerless to do anything to help him except tell him that things would be alright, something that had sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

She felt useless as she watched him flail from one setback to another during his time in hospital, each time he took a step forward and made progress, something would invariably happen to cause him to take another two steps back. There was nothing she could say, no words that would make his period of recovery any easier. So she stayed steadfast by his side as she attempted to imbue him with a little of her own steely strength and determination, not allowing him to push her away in a fit of anger.

She had always thought of herself as a patient person, but there were times when Horatio's bitterness and inability to accept his situation grated on her nerves to the point that she had snapped at him, completely at odds with her usually sunny disposition. Horatio in a foul mood would be enough to bring many a grown man to tears and beg for mercy, some days she had tolerated the growling and the cold stares, others she had reached her limit with him and his self-indulgent fits of pitying as she fired back with her own stinging retort.

Yet she couldn't deny the truth in his words last night as he told her that she was becoming too much. She had been forced into the role of protector for so long that she found it an extremely hard habit to break. Due to her career and circumstance, she had never been gifted the honour of having children and it had started to become something she had thought of with increasing frequency over the last few years.

Her biological clock was ticking. Nearing her forties, she knew that time would soon run out to have children of her own. There had always been that mothering instinct in her since she was a child, her upbringing in Louisiana had forced her into the role of caregiver at a relatively young age. Her father, although he was a dear, sweet man, needed a great deal of attention to ensure that he stayed on the straight and narrow.

Kenwall Duquesne was a man who seemingly had it all. A good job, a loving wife and a beautiful daughter with which he shared his home in the beautiful surroundings of the Louisiana countryside. How could a man with a life only others could dream of be so insistent on throwing away everything that was right in his world?

It had been a question she had asked herself many a time as she once more came to his aid and drove him home after one too many drinks at the local bar. Her father's drinking had become noticeable when she was turning into a young woman herself, with age came awareness, suddenly her father's strange behaviour began to make sense. When she was a child she had put his clumsiness down to being a quirk of his nature, she would giggle at the way he tripped over his own feet and be rewarded with a giggle from her loving father in return as they shared in their own private joke.

As a child, she could never understand why her mother would not join in with the fun and games when Daddy was being silly and falling over. Her mother would tut and walk away, shaking her head sadly as she made her way back to the kitchen to prepare dinner for the day.

It was not until she turned thirteen that she realised just why her mother took such a dim view of their larking around. The other kids at school had begun talking about stealing their parent's liquor, planning to meet up by the abandoned house down the road so that they could all get their first taste of alcohol. Giving in to peer pressure, she joined them as the large group of boys and girls sat in a circle in the creepy old house that had lay derelict for years, the boys told horror stories of what had happened to the people that had lived there in the hopes that one or more of the girls would be so frightened that they would leap into their safe and strong arms, and perhaps even reward them with a kiss.

Calleigh Duquesne knew better than to listen to the far-fetched tales of a few randy boys looking to get themselves a bit of action. Sitting quietly next to her best friend, Charlie, she watched the rest of the group with quiet amusement, casting furtive glances at her watch to make sure she would be back in time to devour her mother's famous pot roast.

A bottle of liquor had started to get passed around the circle and Calleigh found herself getting increasingly nervous as it came nearer to her, not knowing whether she would be brave enough to take a sip herself or risk being singled out by the group for passing up on the opportunity. They would rib her mercilessly if she didn't take part, the teasing would last for weeks and that wasn't a thought that she particularly relished.

She had a rare combination of both brains and beauty which afforded her the freedom to walk the fine line between being part of the in-crowd while also being able to devote enough time to her studies to achieve good grades. Most other children associated intelligence with being a dorky geek, all thick glasses and goofy braces, but not Calleigh, she had been fortunate enough to gain the best of both worlds.

The debate as to whether to take a sip of alcohol was still raging in her mind as the bottle reached Charlie, it was then that she inhaled a scent that was strikingly familiar to her. The smell of scotch took her back to those summer days that she and her father would run around the house tripping up and falling over, giggling to themselves until their sides hurt. All of a sudden, those innocent tumbles didn't seem quite so innocent after all.

She had made her excuses and left as she took the bottle from Charlie's hand and passed it to the person on her left, climbing to her feet and dusting the dirt from her skirt as she made her way hastily to what was left of the front door. She could hear her friends calling out to her, some teased her and called her names, others just laughed at the girl who had wussed out of taking a swig of liquor.

All the way home her thoughts were consumed by the times that she had shared with her father, the times that she had thought they were being playful. It was beginning to dawn on her that her father's behaviour was not normal and that the scotch had played a large part in the way he was. The more she thought about it, the more she realised that his bouts of clumsiness were increasing in their frequency.

It gave her a much better understanding of her mother's fractious relationship with him. For such a long time she had been confused as to why her parents didn't seem to get along, she had such a good relationship with both of them that she couldn't work out why they were always so unfriendly towards each other.

She had always been close to her mother, more often than not they were more like best friends than mother and daughter, always doing girly things together. As she was beginning to mature into a young woman, her mother would allow her to put on a little lipstick from time to time and they would both lose themselves in styling each others hair. She had two parents that loved her and treated her well, why couldn't they do the same for each other?

As she continued to grow, she continued to understand her father and his odd behaviour a little better. There had been times when she had asked him why; if things were so good in his life, why did he choose to waste all that he had by drinking?

It was a question that he had struggled to give her a suitable answer to and after a while she stopped asking and just accepted that was the way her father was. She would avoid telling him of parent-teacher meetings when she was in high school, dreading the fact that it if he knew he would likely turn up drunk and make a show of himself, and her too. She loved her father despite his battles with the bottle, always believing him when he declared that this was the time that he would kick the habit for good.

To be the child of an alcoholic parent was never easy, there were days when she questioned why her father drank to excess; was the love of his wife and daughter not enough for him?

There were dark times when she would blame herself for his drinking, convincing herself that she had somehow failed as a daughter and had caused him to reach for the bottle. Other times she would be so consumed by her disappointment in him that she would wonder why he loved the drink more than her. Surely if he cared for her he would give up drinking, did he not love her enough?

Time and experience had taught her that her father's issues had nothing to do with her, he would continue drinking until he finally came to the realisation that he wanted to stop, no amount of begging and pleading on her part would make him change his ways. Her unconditional love for him kept her coming back each time he had declared that he would be turning over a new leaf. She would allow herself to feel a small sense of hope only to be crushed by disappointment when he fell off the wagon again, each time she thought it would be different, yet the end result was always the same.

Her parent's marriage fell apart when she was no longer there to keep them together, as she graduated from high school and made her way in college the two of them no longer had anything that kept them united. Her mother had loved him with her heart and soul, but she could no longer bear to put herself through the trauma of staying with him. She had wanted a husband who would take care of her and yet she found herself cleaning up after the man she loved as he stumbled in from yet another heavy night of drinking, again and again.

The divorce was a bitter affair and soon turned nasty as her mother and father turned on each other, causing him to hit the bottle even harder than he had previously. It was a small mercy that she herself had been deep into her studies at college at the time; she loved both of her parents deeply and did not want to be forced to choose sides. Since she had discovered her father's problems with alcohol she had maintained a sunny disposition, broadcasting to the world that she was fine and that she was happy. The truth was something else entirely.

Smiling and being bubbly became her coping mechanism, if people thought she was happy they would not question her too deeply about her life, that way she could hide from what was really wrong. There would be no point in walking around with a permanent frown on her face; it wouldn't change her lot in life. No, the best thing to do was dust herself down and get on with things, never letting the world see the turmoil she felt inside.

Maintaining contact with her parents had become difficult, both of them would talk disparagingly about the other and expect her to voice her opinions or take sides, which she refused to do. The only answer was to move away and leave them to get on with it, when the opportunity to work in ballistics at the New Orleans Police Department came along she jumped at the chance to make a fresh start.

New Orleans was a place that was away from her parents yet close enough that she could get back quickly if an emergency arose. Her mother had seemed much happier in herself after the divorce and had found a new man to settle down with, a man who took care of her and loved her in the ways that her ex-husband couldn't. Phillip was a breath of fresh air and made her mother happy, who was she to stand in the way of their relationship?

Her father meanwhile had never really moved on from the divorce and it appeared to her that he used it as an excuse to carry on drinking, the self-pity exacerbating his desire to drink himself into oblivion and forget the world around him for a precious few hours.

She had returned to Louisiana to celebrate his birthday one year, knocking on his front door and receiving no answer, she had begun to worry about his safety and had spent the day driving around the local town trying to find him before returning to his house early in the evening. As soon as the patrol car pulled up by the sidewalk she knew immediately that it was her father inside. Her heart sank as he stumbled from the car and only remained on his feet due to the fact that a uniformed officer was holding him upright.

After thanking the officers, she had taken him inside and put him to bed, pulling his shoes from his feet and covering him with the comforter as he lay fully-clothed, making sure he was lying on his side as she left the room quietly. She had spent the night on the couch only half-sleeping as she kept an ear out for movements from her father's room should he need assistance.

He woke the next morning in the usual way, promising never to drink again and that today would be the start of a new era for him. He would stay sober and make his little 'lamb chop' proud of him. She would respond in kind, smiling at him and telling him that this time it would be different; willing herself to believe that, even though she knew it was unlikely. It was her curse as his daughter that she would believe him each time he swore he would never drink again, before feeling the inevitable pangs of disappointment once more.

She had met Horatio while working in New Orleans and had been instantly mesmerised by his deep blue eyes and his thirst for justice. The two weeks that they had spent working together had served to give her a renewed enthusiasm for her work and after he had left to return to Miami she had found herself missing his presence.

He'd told her that he could do with a ballistics expert like her in his Lab and after only a few days of thinking about it she had made up her mind that moving to Miami would be a good thing for her, enabling her to put more distance between her, her parents and their problems.

It had worked well for a while, that was until her father decided to move to Miami to be closer to her. Her heart sank as he told her of his plans, she had resigned herself to the fact that he would never give up drinking, but it had become too painful to watch him throw his life away. Perhaps it was selfish on her part, out of sight out of mind, but she could no longer stand to watch his descent any longer.

Her father moving to Miami had only served to make her more disillusioned with him as she was once again forced into the role of caregiver, often having to collect him from one bar or another at the end of the night and driving him home, staying on the couch to make sure that he was alright.

Still she maintained her perky demeanour at work, not wishing to let anyone know about her father and his drinking, even though Horatio had started asking questions about the erratic behaviour of 'Duke' Duquesne when he came to the Department on professional business as a defence attorney. She was well aware that her superior could sense the unease she felt around her father, yet said nothing of it except to ask if she was ok.

Horatio had always employed an 'open door' policy in the Lab and it comforted her to know that she could always talk to him if she felt the need to. The chance had never arisen though, the Lab had always been a hive of activity and it seemed as if she rarely found a spare moment to sit and talk to the Lieutenant about the things that were bothering her.

It began to occur to her that in many ways perhaps she was the same as Horatio, both had kept their minds from their personal issues by consuming themselves with their professional duties. She had snapped at him for keeping things from her and not being open and honest when really she was no better herself. Perhaps talking to Horatio about her parents would enable him to see why she felt the need to mother him.

The nurturing instinct in her was strong, borne of the need to take care of her father on a regular basis. It had been an instinct that had increased during her adult life as the roles between parent and child were reversed. Horatio had been injured and vulnerable, she had instilled herself in the role of protector without a second thought, keeping him from those who meant him harm as he struggled to recover from what had been done to him.

Yet Horatio was not her father, nor was he a child who needed mothering. He was a man who was proud and independent, and now that his strength was returning he would not stand for her fussing over him. He didn't need her to take care of him like she had her father, he would not tolerate it, and deep down she knew it would push him away if she continued to do so.

Horatio's situation had not been of his own doing, unlike her father. Kenwall Duquesne had chosen to drink even though he had a family who had loved him. Horatio had been through more traumatic events than most and yet he maintained the resolve not to descend into destructive habits. His strength had been put to the test in the most challenging of ways, and though he had faltered at times, he had finally begun to emerge from the horrific events that had transpired.

Horatio was different from all of the other men in her life, looking back it was clear that the men she had dated had all needed that nurturing instinct from her. They had all needed taking care of in one way or another and she had fallen into that role, not knowing any different after years of caring for her unpredictable and erratic father. All of those relationships were doomed to fail; she didn't want to be thrust into the role of being the responsible one, always taking care of the men in her life. The men she had dated had been emotionally needy or immature and it was only a matter of time before she would walk away from the relationship with her heart broken and her hopes dashed as yet another relationship crashed and burned.

Horatio was different, he was a man who was in control of his life and didn't need the emotional support or someone to take care of him. He was a protector, like her. His ordeal had tested his physical and emotional resilience and she had been called upon to offer him those nurturing and maternal instincts that came so naturally to her. Now that his strength was returning, she needed to take a step back from her urge to take care of him, he needed to be given the space to work through things on his own.

She knew that she loved Horatio and one of the main things that attracted her to the handsome Lieutenant was his inner strength and determination. Being with a man like Horatio would allow her to take a step back from being the strong one all the time, she would not be required to take care of Horatio like she had the others. She would be able to be herself around him, and perhaps discover the woman she had always been yet never had the chance to find out. The key, she told herself, was to let Horatio find his own way and hope that he would return to her side.

Feeling a renewed sense of determination, she pulled herself up from the kitchen table and made her way to the lounge, pausing when she heard the front door open quietly.


	69. Chapter 69

Andy watched his friend sadly as he kept his arm around the younger man's shoulders, trying to keep John in the here and now, not lost in some forgotten memory from long ago. He silently cursed God for putting the poor man through so much, hadn't the guy suffered enough recently?

He knew one thing for sure, John was tough and resilient, yet he was only human too. There was only so much crap anyone could take before it all became too much. The sight of the broken cell phone and the fallen lamp left him under no illusions that John's friendly little chat with Laura had been more than a little upsetting.

If only he had been a better friend and partner back in New York, things might have turned out differently, he wanted John to open up and talk to him, but knew that he wouldn't. Years of being on his own had caused the man to clam up tight when it came to talking about his feelings, it would be pointless trying to force it out of him either.

He let out a deep sigh as John rested his weary head on his arms, his knees drawn close to his body as he attempted to curl up even more. The man appeared physically exhausted from his meeting with the woman he once loved as the pair of them sat on the floor, backs rested against the wall, for what seemed like hours on end.

Finally, John broke free of his embrace and made an effort to stand, rubbing a hand over his tired face as he got to his feet. He pulled himself up too and followed him into the kitchen. "You wanna talk about it now?" he asked, knowing the answer would still be no.

He watched as his old partner leaned against the sink and folded his arms, closing his eyes and sighing in either frustration or fatigue. "I'm tired of talking, Andy."

Perhaps he was right, were there really any words that could make his situation any better?

No, not really, all he could do was sit back and keep guard over the man he had vowed never to let down again.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1993:**

At least the pain had given him something to focus on as he clenched his hand repeatedly, watching as the blood rushed to the surface and spilled down the back of his hand with each new movement. These were the hands that had held his wife as she once again screamed his name in pleasure, both of them consumed in the flames of passion. These were the hands that had placed the wedding band lovingly on her finger. These were the hands that had cupped her face gently as he kissed his blushing bride after they had completed their wedding vows.

These were the hands that now held nothing.

These were the hands that now only had bittersweet memories to hold onto, time had slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, much in the same way as his wife had done. He had reached out to pull her closer to him, yet she had already pulled away. It didn't matter how long he held his hands out for, she would never take them again.

His world had fallen apart around him, so much so that he didn't even hear Andy bustle into the bathroom a few moments later.

"What the hell is going on in here?" the burly detective asked as he saw the broken mirror and blood adorning his small sink unit. His partner had not moved and made no effort to get out of the sopping wet clothes he was standing in.

He softened his stance towards the younger man, he was still clearly shell-shocked by the day's events. He'd seen this kind of reaction before, in veterans of the Vietnam War, it had been a challenging twelve months for the poor man, he tried and failed to save a young boy from his abusive father, witnessed first-hand the horrors of the downtown subway bombing, and now his wife had left him. It was little wonder that John was struggling to cope.

Perhaps John had finally reached his limit, any fool could see how madly in love he was with Laura, he had devoted his life to her, and now life as he knew it had ended. After everything that had happened, how could John ever move on?

He took a couple of steps closer to his partner, unsure of how he might react to his presence. He let out a nervous sigh as John looked at him with dazed eyes. "Let's get you out of these clothes, buddy. Ok?"

He realised that John probably wasn't taking in a word he was saying, so he began the uncomfortable task of slipping the jacket from his friend's shoulders, folding it up and placing it on the lavatory behind him. Next, he went about removing the tie that hung limply around John's neck and then undid the buttons of his shirt as if he were undressing his own child.

The memory of undressing John years ago came to mind suddenly, things had been much different then. John was a young fool in love, he had jumped into the freezing waters of the East River without a second thought to save a young boy from drowning, a move that had made him painfully ill a few days later. His relationship with Laura was in full flow at that point, nothing could keep his perky and eager young partner down during that time. Had that only been a few years ago? How could things have changed so much in such a short space of time?

The past twelve months had hit John hard as he struggled to overcome the horrors he had seen in his job as a police officer, now his personal life had hit the rocks too. There seemed to be no safe harbour for the poor man, his support systems had all but failed him and left him feeling abandoned and alone. He hadn't been much of a friend himself, John had needed his support, yet he had often chosen to lose himself in a bottle of scotch instead.

His partner's crisis was a reason to give up drinking if ever there was one, John needed him to be the kind of friend that he had always wanted to be, but had never been able to achieve. John needed him to be sober if he was going to pull his devastated friend through this.

John had remained unmoving as he folded the clothes and placed them on the closed lavatory seat along with the jacket. He really didn't relish the idea of taking his partner's pants and boxer shorts off; he nudged John with his arm and pointed to the wet clothes he was still wearing. "Take them off," he instructed him softly as he turned the faucets on and warmed the shower up.

He left the room quietly after watching John silently make his way into the shower, satisfied that the warm water would help cease some of the chills that were wracking his friend's body, well aware that a large percentage of them were due to shock and not the wet clothes he had been standing in.

He heard the shower turn off a short while later and was glad to see that John had changed into the clothes that he had laid out for him. Guiding his partner over to the kitchen, he set about removing any remaining pieces of glass from John's hands before wrapping them in bandages from an old first aid kit he'd had stored in a cupboard.

"Just so you know," he said as he looked up briefly from what he was doing. "You're paying for that mirror."

"I'm sorry." John's voice was low, he sounded tired and defeated.

"Don't worry about it, kid," he responded with a smile, disappointed that his partner didn't respond in kind. "You can stay here as long as you need to, ok?"

John nodded his head distractedly as he looked away, feeling the tears prick at his eyes again. "I lost her, Andy."

He watched as his friend bit on his bottom lip, trying his best to stop it from shaking.

What could he say in response to that? There were simply no words that would make it any better, make it any easier for John to understand why it had happened. Giving him clichéd responses would not soothe the troubled man's soul, it would likely only serve to make him feel worse than he already did.

John was a resilient man; he'd shown that in the past twelve months, not many men could have kept their shit together after some of the things that he had witnessed. Sure, there had been times when John had wavered, but he had always maintained that steely determination to carry on, no matter the personal cost to himself. He didn't run and hide from the horrors that he'd seen, he'd used them to spur him on to do better than before, using them as a reason to try harder.

But there was only so much crap that one man could take before he broke down completely. There would be nothing he could do for his young friend except sit back and watch over him until he once more found that inner determination to pick himself up and carry on.

* * *

**Present day. Miami:**

She had driven back to her hotel seething with anger. How dare he treat her in such a way, she had come to Miami to make things right and yet he had pushed her away. How dare he do such a thing to her!

She had admitted to him that she was wrong, and she had asked him for a chance to show just how much she still cared for him. Just as it appeared that he would give their relationship another chance, he had pulled away and told her to leave. Dismissing her as if she were some kind of cheap tart.

Never had he turned down the opportunity to sleep with her, what had made him change so much, did he no longer find her attractive? There were both nearing middle age, she liked to think that she had looked after herself and was still relatively attractive to the opposite sex, why didn't he jump at the chance to make love to her?

It wasn't as if he were in the prime of his life anymore either, he was worn and scarred, the passing years not being kind to him as his face conveyed the strain that he had been under for so long. She silently cursed the blonde woman that had appeared to have captured his heart, feeling a pang of jealousy that John had chosen her. Was it because she was younger? Did that woman have a better figure than she did?

Throwing her purse down on the bed, she realised that she was being unfair to John. The poor man had been through so much recently that it was a wonder that he hadn't lost his senses completely. Perhaps she had been wrong in coming to Miami and forcing her way back into his life; maybe he needed a little more time to decide as to what he really wanted.

It didn't change the way she felt about him, or did it? Was she too caught up in some kind of fairy-tale illusion of how life could be with him?

Theirs had always been a primarily physical relationship, he was able to please her in ways that no other man could. Yet they wanted different things from life, they viewed the world in completely different ways. When sex was taken out of the equation, what was really left? Would they be able to sustain a relationship based on their wildly differing personalities?

Had too much time passed between them? Would they ever be able to recapture the innocence of their youth?

It was probably one of the main reasons she had sought him out again after discovering that he was still alive. A part of her felt empty and unfulfilled, as if there were a part of her life missing. She'd remarried and had children; had a good career and the house that she had always wanted in the suburbs. Yet something was still missing, there was a hollow feeling deep inside of her that she had never been able to fill, no matter how hard she tried.

And so she had convinced herself that renewing her relationship with John would fill that void, that he was the missing piece of the puzzle that would finally make her complete. Being with John again would make her whole.

But he had been unwilling or unable to give her what she wanted; he had pushed her away and told her to go back to New York and the life she once knew, told her to carry on with her life without him in it. How could she though, the way he had left their lives all those years ago had caused deep wounds in all of them, didn't she deserve the time and attention from John to help those wounds heal?

She had sat there for over an hour as she repeatedly rang his cell phone, becoming increasingly irate when he refused to answer. She didn't like the way that they had left things, he had been cold towards her, refusing to look her in the eyes as he turned his back on her. She deserved more than his childish attempts to push her away and ignore her.

It made no difference that he would not talk to her, she set about bombarding him with text messages instead as she revealed her level of frustration and bitterness towards him through a number of caustic messages, letting him know in no uncertain terms that this was far from over. She would not be satisfied until she had accomplished what she had come to Miami to do.

* * *

She stood looking at him in the hallway, the porch light illuminating his features as he hung his head, the light casting large shadows around him as he fiddled with the keys in his hands. It seemed as if the shadows were haunting him, consuming him with their darkness, she heard him take deep breaths as his hands began to shake. She had been about to ask him how it had gone but stopped herself when she saw him raise his head and walk towards her.

He was on her in an instant as his hands cupped her face; he kissed her hungrily, clinging onto her as if he were a drowning man cast adrift at sea. His movements were rough and desperate as he pushed her back against the wall and forced his tongue inside her mouth. There was nothing gentle about him, only a sense of urgency as his hands began tugging at her blouse.

After several attempts she managed to place her hands on his chest and push him back slightly as both of their chests heaved. "Horatio, what….."

He leaned into her again and kissed her passionately before resting his forehead against hers. "No talking…..not tonight…..please."

The look in his eyes unnerved her; never had she seen him react this way before. Yet she could deny him nothing, he seemed to need this, and she had promised him that she would be there for him, no matter what.

Her hands relaxed as they found their way to his shirt, she pulled it roughly out of the band of his jeans and began working on unfastening the buttons. He continued to cover her neck and face in moist kisses as she ran her hands up and down his back, his hands making short work of her pants and lacy underwear. Her hands mirrored his as she pulled at his jeans and boxers passionately, finding herself getting just as caught up in the moment as he was.

Parting her legs with his knees, he lifted her up so that her legs were wrapped around his waist, joining together around his back as he entered her swiftly. He groaned deeply as he felt her accommodate him, kissing her again and again as his firm movements caused them both to vocalise their pleasure.

Placing one hand on the wall for leverage, he continued to thrust firmly as her back made painful contact with the wall several times. Neither of them seemed to care as they lost themselves in the moment, he felt her release moments before his own when he called out her name in a guttural groan.

He held her there as they both came down from their shared high, the palm resting against the wall now sweaty and damp, as was his forehead as he leaned it against hers.

"I love you," he whispered to her.

The realisation of what he had done hit him suddenly as he slowly pulled away and placed her shaky legs gently back down on the ground. "Calleigh…I'm sorry," he began as he bent down to pull his clothes back on.

She said nothing as she kissed him deeply before grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs to the bedroom.


	70. Chapter 70

Silently, she guided him over to the bed and gently placed her hands on his shoulders to lower him onto the soft cotton top sheet, lifting his light blue shirt from his shoulders before tenderly removing the garment from him completely.

He looked into her beautiful green eyes and saw nothing but love and acceptance in them. He had forced himself upon her without a word of explanation, he needed to tell her how sorry he was for losing control like that.

"Calleigh," he began before she silenced him with a soft kiss on his lips.

"No talking remember?" she smiled at him as she stood back, wearing nothing but the unbuttoned blouse he had taken her in only minutes before. "Not tonight."

He could feel himself responding to her as she sauntered over to him and straddled herself across his lap, her hands stroking their way through his hair as she placed feather-light kisses on his creased brow. His hands moved up to caress her sides until she grasped both of them gently and lowered them back towards the bed.

"No, it's my turn now," she whispered in his ear as she kept a hold of his arms.

He could feel her hot breath on the side of his face as she nipped and licked her way from his ear all the way to his mouth. The stirring in his loins was becoming more painful by the minute as she continued her torturous assault of his body, her hands now running over his chest and shoulders as her mouth found his, her tongue begging for entrance.

He couldn't help it, his hands moved of their own free will once more as he felt himself consumed by the need to touch her, to feel her writhe beneath him. He was stopped this time by a firm nip on his lower lip as his stunning temptress once again commanded him to keep still.

"You are not to move unless I tell you to. Understood?"

Although her eyes were clouded with passion, her words were firm, she would brook no argument from him. Not now, not tonight.

With a deep gulp, he nodded his head and allowed her to continue with her passionate ministrations, once more allowing her tongue entry into his willing mouth as he groaned against her.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be lost in the moment. In all of his years, he had always been the giver in a sexual relationship, making sure that his partner was pleasured. His needs and wants became secondary to the woman in his arms, it was his job to make sure she was satisfied, most of his pleasure came from knowing that he had made his lover scream his name in the throes of ecstasy.

But this was different, for the first time, this woman before him was making it her mission to please him,and he found the whole thing tantalisingly erotic. The women he had been with before had been selfish in that respect, wanting to find their own release without really considering his needs. Not Calleigh though, this was a woman who understood him, body and soul. He knew he had made the right decision by pushing Lori away, Calleigh was the one, she had always been.

The load on his lap lightened, he opened his eyes and was disappointed to find that Calleigh had lifted herself up and now stood before him, breaking the physical contact. He was about to question her when a wolfish smile crossed her face. "Do _not _move unless I tell you to," she commanded once more as she divested herself of the silky blouse she had been wearing, the dark red material slinking to the floor and pooling at her feet.

He stared at her in all of her naked glory, his eyes transfixed by her beautifully curvaceous body, the way her hips swayed gently as she walked towards him. This was a woman who was confident about her body and comfortable in her own skin as she stopped in front of him, a small smile crossing her face.

He kept his eyes on her face as they maintained eye contact, noticing her arms moving towards his waist out of the corner of his vision. "Keep looking at me," she ordered as her hands reached their target.

Her hands were working on the button of his jeans and his fly as she kept her gaze on his face, enjoying the nervous gulps he was taking as her hands worked confidently. Horatio Caine had always been a strong and confident man, a man who was always in control and would take command of any situation. She found it an extremely arousing that she was the one who was now in control, and that he loved and trusted her enough to allow her to do so. After all he had been though, control had been the one thing that he had fought the hardest to regain and now here he was, placing his complete trust in her, allowing her to do as she wished with him.

"Lift your hips."

He did as she asked as they remained gazing at each other, his dazzling blue eyes boring into her as he commanded himself to keep as still as possible for her. She pulled his jeans and boxers slowly from his body so that he was as naked as she was. His expression was one of expectancy as he waited for her next instruction.

She straddled his hips again and he could feel her soft, warm body pressing against him as she made herself comfortable on his lap. He screwed his eyes shut and willed the small shudders wracking his body to cease.

"Open your eyes."

He did so, slowly. Her face mere inches from his as she moved closer, her lips reaching for his. Her hands roamed his scarred flesh, her fingers traced light circles over the marks that marred his skin, before placing moist kisses on his chest. He groaned as her tongue found his sensitized nipple, his head fell back as she continued to tease him, her mouth moving as far down his chest as her current position would allow her.

The languid movements ceased, he looked at her in confusion, unsure as to why she had stopped. "Lie back," she told him as she applied firm pressure to his chest as he allowed himself to be lowered to the bed, his back making contact quickly.

"Close your eyes."

He did as he was asked, he could deny her nothing as he allowed her sensuous exploration of his body continue, his breath coming in short gasps as he felt her mouth move further south. He gasped at the sensation as she took him in her mouth, feeling her lips curl into a smile as he bucked beneath her, his breath coming even faster now as he felt himself coming undone.

He thought he would explode right there and then, just as he was about to let go, he realised that she had moved away once more. He opened his eyes, his body aching for her as he felt his need building painfully within him. She leaned over him once more, feeling the heat from her body matching his, her mouth achingly close to his as he felt her breath tickle his face.

"You're mine. No one else's," she told him as her hands wandered over his chest again. "Say it," she commanded as she repositioned herself on top of him, her eyes closing in ecstasy as she felt him fill her completely.

He groaned deeply as he felt their bodies connect once more. "Calleigh….I…."

She ground her hips against him. "Say it." Her voice was firm, even though her body was beginning to betray her with its need to be at one with him.

"I'm yours. No one else's," he repeated as her mouth descended onto his. Their hands clawing at each other in fevered passion as he bent forwards, bringing himself closer to her as much as he physically could.

There were no words, she made him feel alive as they lost themselves in the pleasure and the feel of their bodies meeting in the most intimate of ways. Being with a woman had never felt so right as it did at this moment. How had he come to fall so deeply in love with this woman, what had he ever done to deserve someone as special as her?

Lori had never made him feel this way, with Calleigh in his arms, he felt invincible, as if he could take on the world and win. When he found his strength wavering she gave him her own, when his confidence was knocked, she was there to help him rebuild it, never once asking for anything in return.

He would never have made it this far without her, she had been his rock when he'd felt cut adrift and lost in the deep murky waters of his own pity, she had clung to him and refused to let him go, even though he had been cruel and ungrateful towards her many times when his bitterness at his own human weaknesses made him lash out at her.

As they moved together in unison, he knew what it was that he had to do. He was regaining his physical strength and emotional fortitude with each day that passed, and he would continue to do so knowing that Calleigh was by his side. Having her in his life made him want to be a better man, to be the man that she so clearly deserved.

Today had been a test of his strength, and even though he had wavered at times, he had remained strong and refused to give into the temptation of falling back into Lori's arms once more. The urge to throw everything away had been strong, a small part of his being had yearned for the feeling of his ex-wife beneath him, taking him back to a time when things seemed so much less complicated than they did now.

He had no doubt that his dalliance with Lori today would come back to haunt him in the near future. Lori was not a woman who took rejection well, she would likely do everything in her power to make sure that Calleigh knew what had happened between them. He would not give her that chance though, tomorrow he would tell Calleigh exactly what had happened between them and make sure that she understood who his heart belonged to.

Tomorrow he would tell her, but first he needed to be with her tonight.

* * *

The soothing rays of the morning Miami sun filtered gently through the blinds and caressed her face softly as she felt the first tendrils of consciousness returning. Sensations returned to her slowly as she felt his strong arms wrapped around her own naked flesh, their heads so close to each other on the pillows that they were almost touching.

She watched his eyelashes flutter as the muscles in his face moved in time with whatever dream he was having, still deeply asleep after their night of passion. In the harsh light of day, she wondered if perhaps she had gone a little too far last night, commanding that he tell her that he was hers completely. What right did she have to claim any kind of ownership over him?

Horatio was his own man, his pride and his will had been severely tested recently, who was she to try to take that away from him again?

Yet something clawed at her, she needed him to understand that she simply would not share him with anyone else. She found herself falling so deeply in love with this complicated, and at times difficult man, that it made her unreasonably possessive over him. Perhaps it was still the protective urges in her that caused her to want to hide him away from the rest of the world, to keep him somewhere where only she alone could have him.

The return of his ex-wife had turned her into something of a jealous lover, the kind of woman she would frown upon in her role as a police officer. How many times had women killed for the man they loved? Did loving Horatio as she did create the same level of feelings in her that it would drive her to kill for him?

She only hoped that her rational thinking would overcome any murderous intentions she might feel against another woman who tried to capture his heart, yet she knew that if it came down to it, she would fight to the death for the man in her arms.

A soft mewing noise caught her attention, her eyes travelled to the end of the bed as Moses began winding his way up to her face, rubbing his lithe body against her chest and neck, purring contentedly as he dropped heavily to rest between his owners.

The cat looked at her quizzically. "He's still asleep," she whispered conspiratorially, and was rewarded with another soft mew as she raised a finger to her lips. "We don't want to wake him, do we?"

Gently disengaging herself from his arms, she froze when a small groan emanated from his lips. She let out a sigh of relief as he let out a deep groan, readjusted his position and continued to sleep, blissfully unaware of what was going on around him. Pulling herself from the bed, she walked around to Horatio's side and picked up the light blue shirt she had taken off of him yesterday. She closed her eyes at the sensation of the soft silk touching her skin as she wrapped the garment around her naked body, breathing deeply, her nose caught the essence of the material. An aroma of spicy aftershave mingled with Horatio's own scent caused her mind to flit back to the way they had come together as one last night.

Fastening a couple of buttons, she leaned over his slumbering form and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, tucking the few errant strands of hair off his forehead, a grin crossed her face as she felt him unconsciously lean into her touch. "Calleigh," he murmured softly, seeming to know she was there even though he was still deeply asleep.

"Keep an eye on him, Moses," she instructed the cat quietly. The feline creature mewed and cocked its head to one side before burrowing under the cotton sheet that covered his master. The cat was only small, yet she had no doubt that Moses would defend his beloved owner to the hilt as his head poked out and kept a protective guard over the human that had stolen his heart. Horatio's hand instinctively moved towards the cat as he stroked Moses, not even aware that he was doing so.

Her eyes widened in alarm when she looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. How had they both slept so late?

Perhaps it was a testament to the draining day they had both had, last night's activities had also taken a great deal out of them too. Horatio's behaviour had shocked her at first, his primal need to be with her was at odds with the gentle and kind man that she knew. He had torn at her clothes with animalistic passion, his touch forceful as he pushed her against the hallway wall. She could feel the tenderness in her back as she gingerly sat herself down in one of the kitchen chairs, waiting for the pot of coffee to brew.

There had been times recently when Horatio had been so quiet, to the point of being meek, and it had shocked her to see such a strong and vital man be reduced to almost nothing. She had no doubt that his actions last night were his unconscious mind's way of reasserting his dominance as not only a man, but as a force to be reckoned with.

His firm and assured movements had also been highly arousing, she herself had been swept away by his need to physically convey how much he wanted and needed her. She would take forceful Horatio over the weak and pitiful shell that had been left behind by those Malucci monsters.

He'd looked dismayed as the passion in his eyes was doused by the realisation that he had all but forced himself on the woman he was supposed to love and care for. He immediately began to apologise for what he had done, yet she would hear none of it. It had been what he needed, what he had to do in order to convince himself that the real Horatio was returning. He had spent a lifetime more concerned about what others wanted or needed that he had spent little time considering his own needs. After all the giving he had done, he deserved to be the one doing the taking for once.

But she had sat and fretted about him all day, even though Alexx had offered her some sage advice and imbued her with a little of that Dr Woods confidence, she still felt unsure of herself and where she fitted into Horatio's life. The man was trying valiantly to piece two shattered lives together into some kind of whole. When all was said and done, where would she fit in, would there be a place for her at all?

Just as he had needed to show her, she needed to let him know in no uncertain terms that she was in this relationship for the long haul. Yes, she had been possessive of him as she stripped him of control in the bedroom, but he needed to learn that she could be just as strong and powerful as he was trying to convince himself that he still was. She would not be weak and bow to his wishes, he needed to know that the only way their relationship would work would be as equals.

She would not back down from a fight or allow herself to be cowed into making concessions towards him. They were both strong and independent individuals, she needed to make it clear to him that would not change. Just in the way that she had not tried to change him, he would not be allowed to try to change her either. Would a relationship between two stubborn and headstrong people actually work, or would their need for freedom and control eventually rip them apart?

She hoped not. Individually, they were strong. Together they had the potential to be unstoppable.


	71. Chapter 71

The shrill ringing of the phone in the hallway caused her to jump, beyond the hissing of the bacon cooking under the grill, the house had been silent and she'd found herself getting lost in her thoughts once more. Turning down the gas on the stove, she placed the wooden spoon down and raced to pick up the call before it woke the man still asleep in her bed.

_Their bed, _she corrected herself.

"Hello?" she answered a little nervously. For some unknown reason, her mind had convinced her during the few small steps between the kitchen and hallway that the person on the other end of the line would be the voice of Horatio's ex-wife. Her countenance darkened at the thought.

"Hey, Calleigh. How's it going?"

She felt herself physically relax as she heard the boyish tones of Kyle crackle through the phone's receiver. "Hey there," she replied brightly. "How's your new posting?"

"Pretty cool, thanks. Sure beats that sandbox I was in before."

His words were jovial, yet she knew first-hand how much Horatio had worried about his son serving on the front line in Afghanistan. At least at Camp Blanding he was safe and close by, it seemed to give Horatio some reassurance that his son was not in any immediate danger.

"How's he doing?" Kyle asked with genuine concern in his voice. She was well aware of just how close the two of them had become in recent months, as the roles between father and son were reversed. Was either man aware that their primary concern was always for each other and not themselves?

"He's getting there, it's been a tough week for him." She was being deliberately evasive and she knew it. Horatio would not thank her for giving his son all the messy details of what had transpired in the last seven days or so. No, it would be better coming from the man himself, if he even chose to divulge it that was.

"Is he there? Can I speak to him?"

It was not her place to keep father from son, the two of them had been through challenges that no family should ever have had to face, yet she was reluctant to wake Horatio from the deep and restful sleep that he so clearly needed.

"He's…..uh….He's still asleep, Kyle."

"At this time? Is he ok, has something happened to him?"

The rising sense of panic in Kyle's tone was clear as the young man's mind began racing at a mile a minute, conjuring possible scenarios, none of them pleasant.

"Kyle, take a breath. He's fine," she began, trying to reassure him, although his concern was understandable. "Like I say, it's been a hard week for him. It's the first time he's slept properly for a while, I don't want to wake him just yet."

"I couldn't reach him on his cell, Calleigh. And then when you said…." His voice trailed off as dark thoughts clouded his mind again. "I guess I just thought the worst. He's ok though, you're not lying to me are you?"

"Kyle, I swear he's fine. Just exhausted, I'm taking good care of him." She hoped the smile on her face transferred down the telephone line as she tried to adopt as confident a tone as possible. There would be no need for the young man to worry, he was hundreds of miles away anyway. "I'll get him to call you later on, ok?"

"Sorry, Calleigh. I know you are, it's just…I kinda feel protective of him, you know?"

"I do." She was relieved that they were both on the same wavelength when it came to Horatio, and glad to know she wasn't the only one who felt the need to defend him from any perceived threats. "He misses you, Kyle," she added a few moments later.

"I know, I miss him too." She could hear the genuine sadness and regret in Kyle's voice, amplified by the tired sigh he gave too. "Still, I'm hoping what I have to tell him will cheer him up a bit," he added in a much brighter tone.

"You wanna share?" she asked teasingly.

His laugh was evident down the line, "No, that would spoil the surprise."

She frowned at the thought. "Horatio's not real big on surprises," she warned him, knowing that her lover was not a man who enjoyed being caught off-guard.

"I think he's gonna like this one."

"You're not even going to give me a hint?"

"Nope. You'll find out soon enough. Take care of him for me?"

"You don't even have to ask, you know I will. Stay safe, Kyle."

"Always, Ma'am."

His reply was so reminiscent of his father, this boy was more like Horatio than any of them realised. It made her happy to think that Horatio had influenced the young man so much, despite only knowing him for a few short years. Kyle was well on the way to realising the potential that his father had always seen in him.

She couldn't deny that talking to Kyle had put a spring in her step, the young man had so many of his father's good qualities about him and had come so far from the scared and damaged boy that they'd first stumbled upon. Still, her mind couldn't shake the nagging feeling of unease, why hadn't she heard Horatio's cell phone go off, had he turned it off last night?

She certainly hadn't felt it is in his pants when he pushed her up against the hallway wall. No, she had felt something very different then. She felt the heat rising to her face at the thought of what had transpired between them the night before. Fanning herself with her hand, she willed her thoughts to return to something much less erotic than the sensation of his firm and experienced hands travelling the length of her body. She made her way back into the kitchen just in time to save the breakfast from burning.

_Control yourself! _she chided silently, pouring two cups of coffee from the pot before plating up the food she'd cooked, placing it all on a tray before admiring her work proudly.

It was no surprise that Horatio was still fast asleep as she entered their room, smiling at the fact that Moses had made himself entirely comfortable in his master's arms. He failed to rouse even as the mattress adjusted to the difference in weight as she made herself comfortable on the other side of the bed, placing the tray on her lap. She smiled mischievously, knowing that once the smell of freshly-brewed coffee permeated his senses that he would soon return to the land of the living.

And it didn't take long. She watched in some amusement as his nose twitched at the smell of the caffeinated beverage, his eyes opened with a deep groan.

"Well hello there, Sleeping Beauty," she teased with a grin on her face.

"Urgh. What time is it?" he asked sleepily as he raised himself into a sitting position, resting his back against the bedstead.

"Breakfast time."

Her smile was infectious, he found the last tendrils of sleep release him and retreat back into the darkness as she looked at him with child-like joy. He couldn't help it when a small grin broke across his features too. "Breakfast in bed?" he questioned as he pointed at the tray resting on her lap.

"It's for you," she replied with a smile as she transferred the tray to his lap.

The pile of eggs, bacon and toast was huge, there would be no way he could eat that amount of food, no matter how hungry he might have felt. He felt awful for the fact that he couldn't eat it all, Calleigh had clearly spent a great deal of time and effort in creating such a feast for him. "Calleigh….Sweetheart. I'm not going to be able to eat all of this," he told her gently, trying his best not to hurt her feelings.

"That's why I brought these," she responded conspiratorially as she pulled a second set of cutlery from behind her back, cutting herself a piece of bacon and egg before popping it in her mouth.

He felt a stirring deep within his stomach as he watched her chew the mouthful of food, admiring the way she swallowed as it travelled down her throat and into her stomach. The way she licked her lips and groaned in pleasure, how could watching someone eat seem so erotic?

His jaw must have dropped as he watched her, the next he thing he knew was that she had stuck a forkful of food in his open mouth. His body reacting unconsciously and causing him to chew and swallow the food before he even realised what he was doing.

There was something quite fun about feeding him, she thought, as she placed another forkful of food into her own mouth. There had been times during Horatio's lengthy recovery that he had been too physically weak to feed himself and had been reliant on others to cut his food for him. She was well aware at how much it galled him to not be able to complete such simple tasks himself, he had found it disheartening and beyond humiliating to be treated as if he were a helpless child.

She began to panic, sensing that perhaps feeding her lover was not the right thing to do. Would it take him back to those times when he felt so helpless, so hopeless?

He'd returned the favour before she'd even realised it, as he shoved a forkful of food into her open mouth. "Touché," she mumbled around a mouthful of food.

Between them they made short work of the plate of food, she placed her cutlery down, gazing into his eyes. "That was fun," she croaked out a little nervously as Horatio's head leaned closer to hers.

"It was," he growled amorously in response as he captured her mouth in a tender kiss, only breaking contact when he felt the burning need for his lungs to take in more air. "I think that is how we start should every morning from now on."

It had been a long time since she'd felt this contented, yet she couldn't shift the feeling that both of them needed to explain what had happened between them last night. There were things that they obviously needed to discuss, she ached to know how his meeting with Laura went. Judging by his forceful reaction last night, it was obvious that meeting with his ex had stirred up some powerful memories for him. Why else would he have reacted in the way he did?

She knew that she also had some explaining to do. Her actions this week, however well intentioned, had caused a rift between the two of them. After speaking at length to Alexx, it had dawned on her how suffocating her presence may have felt to Horatio, her actions last night could well have been construed by him as another example of how she was trying to control him. That certainly wasn't her intention, she only wanted to show him that she had staked her claim on him as a lover and a partner, and that she would not be willing to share him with another woman.

They needed to talk, to clear the air so that there were no misunderstandings between them, their relationship would only work if they were both honest with each other. There would be no point in second-guessing what the other thought, they'd done that enough of that already, had wasted too many years talking but not really communicating in a way that mattered.

But a part of her wanted this lazy morning to last forever, to remain in bed and never leave, to Hell with the world outside. She had a man sitting next to her who loved her, and complicated as he was, he was trying to be more open and honest about his thoughts and feelings. He was trying so hard, didn't she owe it to him to do the same?

She took a sip of her coffee as she saw the contented smile on his face. "Horatio…..as much as I want this to continue, you know we have to talk about yesterday."

He took a sip of his own coffee as he nodded his head sadly. "I know."

She'd been the one to say it, she hadn't wanted to though. Sometimes it really sucked being the voice of reason. She deliberately took her time finishing her coffee, hoping to stave off the inevitable.

"Could we perhaps just sit here like this for a little longer?"

His voice was quiet and a little uncertain, giving an indication to what Horatio must have been like as a young boy. It felt good to know that he hadn't wanted their blissful start to the day to end as much as her.

And so they sat, side by side in bed. Enjoying the peaceful moment for as long as they could, both of them knowing deep within themselves that the next few hours could make or break their fledgling relationship.

She felt his warm hand reach out for hers, noticing the small tremors that coursed through it as he gave it a quick squeeze, trying to reassure both of them, of what he didn't know. It was as if he feared that this would be the last time he would be able to be this close to her, she had become his lifeline recently and he was loathe to break the physical contact with her, scared by the thought that if he let her go that he would have nothing left to keep him centred in a world that he was still struggling so hard to understand.

He took a deep breath before he started, risking a quick glance at her as he cocked his head. "Calleigh….you have a right to know what happened yesterday. I need you to hear me out before you say anything….can you do that for me?"

She nodded her head slowly, her heart hammering in her chest as she prepared herself for the worst.


	72. Chapter 72

Sitting at the vanity, she applied her eyeliner, continuing to stew on the events of yesterday. How dare he treat her in such a way, pushing her away as if she were nothing more than the dirt on his shoe?

She'd never been treated so dismissively before, he had commanded her to leave Miami and return to her life in New York as if she had meant nothing to him. Where the hell did he get off, telling her what to do?

She'd driven back to the hotel, wiping furiously at the tears that streamed from her eyes, she would not give that asshole the satisfaction of knowing that he had upset her. But was it the fact that he had dismissed her that had upset her, or the fact that he would no longer bend to her will?

Either way, it was infuriating and unacceptable. The discussion was far from over as far she was concerned, she would make her voice heard, regardless of what might be best for the man that she used to love, that she still loved.

Did she though, did she really still love him, had she ever truly loved him in the first place? She had loved the primal physical connection that they had shared, John had always been a gifted lover and had made her feel like no other man ever could. Had they both just got so lost in the hedonism of the feel of each other's naked skin that it blinded them to the truth?

Since her divorce from Danny, she had found herself strangely cut adrift from life, meandering from one expectation to the other, yet never truly finding any real sense of contentment. Motherhood had been unexpected, she had found herself going through the motions somewhat when it came to raising her children. Bringing new life into the world, caring and nurturing her children had never come naturally to her. There had been many times when she cursed the way she had spoken to her children or treated them, as her past finally came back to haunt her.

Her children, although they loved her, were emotionally distant. She had imbued them with the same sense of independence that she'd had, now that they were grown, they no longer were in need of her guidance or advice, not that she'd ever really provided that in the first place. Danny had always left her in the role of bad cop, she would always have to be the one to discipline the children, while he would be the one to shower them with gifts and affection.

Perhaps it suited her to play that role, her temper had always gotten the better of her in those younger years. John had usually been the one to suffer her wrath, yet he kept coming back for more, even after they were divorced, she was still able to have her way with him at her choosing. Having the measure of a man such as John made her feel empowered and important, it was a new and exciting feeling to her after the cold and rather detached way her own mother had treated her.

She wondered if John ever realised that her quick temper was nothing more than a defence mechanism, a knee-jerk reaction she had put in place to prevent those closest to her from seeing how much she was really hurting inside. Her own childhood had been difficult, caught between an emotionally reticent mother and a father who often put geographical distance between him and his family, citing the repeated reason that his work took him away from home for long periods of time.

She and Max had every material item that a child could wish for, they were always dressed in the latest fashions and had the most extravagant toys that money could buy, yet the endless procession of nannies that inhabited their large townhouse often left her feeling lonely and confused. Her brother had offered little in the way of emotional support to her, boys were not known for talking about their feelings, and he would often pull her hair or call her a sissy for wanting to discuss such horrifying subjects.

It became something of a pattern, that she would grow close to a child minder only for them to be replaced a short while afterwards, the constant stopping and starting affected her emotional development more than she had previous realised. By the time she was in her young teens, she had become remarkably self-sufficient. Her independence had come at a price though, in order to protect herself from further pain she had become emotionally distant from those around her. It had been her experience that if she got too close to another person that she would inevitably lose them and be forced to start over again, the thought of repeating the same mistakes over and over had driven her to hide part of herself away from the rest of the world.

Anger became her outlet, her frustration at her distant parents often spilled over into her school life. She and Max were fortunate that they both went to the best schools in the state, her education had been second to none and would stand her in good stead for the future. None of that seemed to matter when she heard the other girls in the school yard talking about the fun trips they went on with their parents during the summer break.

The other girls would eventually ask her what she had done during those long summer weeks, when school was out and the rules of everyday life were relaxed. What could she tell them, that her parents were too busy with their careers to spend more than a day or two with their children? That her mother and father had looked bored the whole time that they had been out to visit the City Museum? That they couldn't wait to get back to their jobs and let the hired help take care of the kids?

No, she couldn't tell them any of that. Her only choice would be to lie, and so she did. But the other girls would keep asking her questions until she found herself being tripped up by her own fabrications.

Maybe it had stood her in good stead to become a lawyer, being able to emotionally distance herself from the subject at hand, to spend her time pointing the finger of accusation in someone else's direction. Deflection was the best form of defence, after all.

But then she had met John, and the attraction had been instant. Physically they were a perfect match, the passion between them was obvious from the first time his hand had brushed hers. There was something about the handsome, slightly cocky redhead that she found endearing and it drew her to him.

They had been so caught up in their passion that both of them had failed to see how destructive they were to each other, her in particular. She had never took any satisfaction out of saying those hurtful things to him, yet she was powerless to stop herself either. Every time she felt he was getting to close to breaking down the defences that she had so carefully constructed, she felt the need to lash out at him and create some distance between them. It was how she had survived for so long, protecting herself from the emotions that confused her, the emotions that she found so hard to understand.

It was obvious that her erratic behaviour was hurting the man she loved, it ate at her every day to see the way that their toxic relationship was chipping away at the bright and bouncy young man she had met across that crowded squad room. Little by little, his happiness and zest for life were diminished by the cruel words she sent his way. But she had tried, she had tried so hard to be the wife that he wanted, the wife that he deserved.

She couldn't do it though, each time she looked into those sad blue eyes, she saw the hurt in them, the pain that she had caused by treating him so coldly and trying to push him away. He'd come back each time, after their hurtful arguments, intent on clearing the air and making concessions towards her, promising that he would change in whatever way he could to please her.

It was unfair and unrealistic to expect him to do so, she couldn't bear to hurt him anymore than she already had, and so she called time on their relationship and their marriage. She would never forget the look of shock on his face as she'd told him it was over, it pained her to see him look so shattered, yet she knew it was for the best. He would hurt deeply for a while, but his wounds would heal with time. He deserved to be freed from their relationship, he deserved to find a woman who would be able to give him what he wanted.

It was unlikely that he had ever considered how hard it was for her to end their relationship, it certainly wasn't something that she'd enjoyed doing, she took no satisfaction from taking his world and smashing it to pieces. Someone had to make the first move, John was too much in love with her to be in any position to do so, and so she found herself yet again being the voice of reason, playing the role of bad cop.

Letting him go and staying away would have been the smart thing to do, it was just a shame that she found herself unable to do so. She was well aware that he was struggling much more than she was to get over the breakup of their marriage, a cruel part of her wanted his suffering to continue so that she could continue to have a hold over him. Having the upper hand in a relationship was something quite alien to her, yet she enjoyed the thrill that it gave her to see him jump at her every command.

She had come to Miami seeking to fill a void that had been present for most of her adult life, convincing herself that John would be the man to fill the dark chasm in her aching heart. She had told herself that he alone was the reason that she could never move on, never feel complete without him. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but she felt they both deserved the opportunity to see if the old spark was still there.

It had taken her by surprise to see the sorry state of a man that John had become, too weighed down by the regrets of what he had done in his past. She had given him a dose of her righteous anger, and he had accepted it as if it was what he felt he deserved. He didn't want her forgiveness or understanding, he wanted her to reaffirm his sinful behaviour and berate him for the choices he had been forced to make.

Looking at his worn face, it reminded her why she had fallen in love with this gentle and kind man in the first place. She had so often never given him the emotional reassurance that he needed when they were together, staring into his tired eyes, she could see just how deeply he was still affected by what had happened to him.

She was not perfect, she knew that, but she would not stand back and watch this good man suffer any longer. He needed to hear that she understood and that he was forgiven, even if he wanted to deny it to himself, he needed to know that his actions back in New York had not been in vain. His reaction had been one of intense relief, and it had felt good to know that, for once, she had done something positive for him.

Perhaps her elation and his relief had got the better of both of them as their lips met in a tender kiss, suddenly years of memories and emotions flooded back to the surface. The feel of his lips on hers had set her skin on fire and reminded her just how good they were together physically. It had reminded her that his touch was like that of no other lover she had ever known.

Suddenly it became clear, as if the last remaining piece of the jigsaw had finally slotted into place. She convinced herself that being with John had been what she'd been missing for so long. His touch had reignited a flame she thought had been doused long ago, surely he felt the spark as much as she did?

But he'd pulled away from her, the man she remembered had never been one to turn down the opportunity to be intimate with her. He'd told her that he was no longer the man she remembered, yet she refused to believe that was true, he still looked at her with those crystal blue eyes that clouded with passion each time their bodies touched. He was fooling himself if he thought that he no longer had feelings for her.

Things had been moving in the right direction as they sat on the sofa, their hands roaming over each other's body as the lust between them intensified. She had made her intentions quite clear when her hand found its way into his pants and he could not deny that his body had responded positively to her touch. Just as things were getting interesting, he pulled away from her forcefully and had commanded her to get out of his house, to get out of his city.

Who the hell did he think he was, talking to her like that? He had no right to speak to her in such a way, or to tell her what to do. The small vindictive voice in her head wanted to take back the words of forgiveness that she had spoken to him, a part of her wanted him to suffer for hurting her in the way that he had. She'd been given the brush off and had found it insulting, her ego and pride bruised by his emotionless dismissal of her.

Time and age had mellowed her slightly, it was obvious that John was a man who was still clearly confused about his identity, to say nothing of the complex emotions that his past lives entailed. It was doubtful that the poor man had any idea of what it was that he wanted, it was this belief that had given her the determination to put her pride to one side and fight for him. He would continue to push her away but she would not be swayed, she was not even sure herself whether it was her genuine regret that things had ended so badly between them that possessed her to want to stay, or the fact that she had never been denied anything she wanted in her life. What she wanted she would invariably get, perhaps losing herself in the chase as she battled for his heart was part of the thrill. But she would get her way, of that she was sure.

An insistent knocking at her hotel room door brought her back to reality as she found herself staring distantly into the vanity mirror of the en-suite bathroom. A small smile crossed her face as she told herself that it would be John knocking at her door, having taken the night to consider her offer and deciding to take her up on it.

Vanity compelled her to check her makeup once more as the thumping on the thin wooden door continued apace. With one final flick of her hair and a squirt of perfume, she made her way to the door, a wolfish smile on her face.

It was a smile that soon disappeared when she opened the door and found someone else entirely staring back at her.


	73. Chapter 73

He opened his mouth to begin but found himself stopped in his tracks by her shaky voice. "Did you sleep with her?"

He flinched at those words as his hand tightened on hers. "Of course I didn't. What do you take me for?"

The shock in his voice was clear. Did she really think him that weak-willed that he would risk everything he had with her by jumping into bed with his ex-wife?

But he had come so close to doing so, hadn't he?

She wouldn't look at him, she couldn't look at him. Not until she'd heard the truth. "Please, Horatio. Don't lie to me….if you slept with her then just tell me."

Her words were filled with sorrow and he could see her bottom lip tremble as she bit down on it, willing herself to remain in control of her emotions. Letting go of her hand, he cupped her face gently and spoke in as reassuring a voice as he could. "Calleigh, look at me please," he begged as her eyes remained downcast. He lifted her chin with a finger as her eyes finally met his. ""I swear to you that I did not sleep with her."

His eyes remained locked on hers the whole time he spoke and she knew that he was telling her the truth, but surely something had happened between them to cause such a strong reaction in him yesterday. "Did you want to?" she asked quietly.

He let out a deep breath, Calleigh had asked him a question he felt impossible to answer without hurting her. She deserved to know the truth, of how close he had come to losing control completely and making one of the biggest mistakes of his life. But he had realised what he had been doing before it was too late and had pushed Lori away, surely that would count for something when he finally admitted the truth to Calleigh?

But how could he put into words the emotions that his meeting with Lori had uncovered, how feelings he believed had been buried forever had risen back to the surface? How could he possibly make her understand just how confused he'd been recently, as he tried to slot two different lives into one single existence? Things were such a mess at the moment, leaving him unsure of who he was or how he truly felt, had he needed to kiss Lori in order to convince himself that Calleigh was the woman for him?

"Horatio, just be honest with me….please," she begged as her eyes returned to her lap. He let her face go and rubbed a wearied hand over his own.

"We spoke about what happened…" he began before his voice died out.

"In New York, when you were married?"

He nodded his head. "And what transpired after that."

"When you were undercover?"

"Yes. She was angry with me, perhaps rightly so. I did a lot of things back then that I'm not proud of," he finished quietly as he clasped his hands together tightly in his lap, feeling his recently-healed left arm complain.

"You had no choice, you had to do it."

He let out a small, humourless laugh. "Lori doesn't tend to see things that way, only what's good for her." He gave Calleigh a quick glance before he continued. "I tried to make her understand that I regretted every single moment that I lied to her…..and the other people that I cared about. I had to make her see that she wasn't the only one who had been hurt by what happened."

She took it better than I expected….she told me that she forgave me for what I did...and that I could stop fighting."

She could hear the relief in his voice as he spoke of the events of the day before. She knew that it had been something that he had been searching for since this whole sorry saga had begun. He needed to know that the people in his past understood why he had betrayed them, forgiveness from Andy alone had not been enough to soothe his troubled soul.

He'd deserved to hear those words from his ex-wife, after all of the bitterness and pain that he had been through, it was such a small concession for her to make and it had obviously meant the world to Horatio to hear it. A small part of her felt slightly jealous that no matter how much care and love she had showered him with, it was within another woman's power to give him the emotional relief that he had been looking for.

She told herself that she was placing unreasonable expectations on her lover, his past was something that he simply had to come to terms with, and no matter how much she had wanted to be able to go back in time and show him that he wasn't alone, she was unable to. Nothing she could say or do would help heal the wounds of the past, the right to do so was in the hands of another woman.

She had seen the way that Laura had looked at him and was under no illusions that her forgiveness had come at a price. From all that she had heard about the woman from Andy, she was aware that Laura often did not do anything unless it served a purpose to her. Had she given Horatio her forgiveness in return for something else?

"What happened?" she asked quietly as she heard him sigh deeply again as his breath forcefully left his body through his nose.

"Calleigh….there's no point…."

"Tell me."

They sat next to each other on the bed as the silence spread into a yawning chasm, it was a good thing that neither of them were dressed, at least it would spare them being able to storm out on each other should they hear something they didn't like.

"It felt like such a load had been lifted from me when she said those words. I hadn't realised how much I'd needed to hear them…..it was as if my legs couldn't hold me up any longer. She held me to her and I wept…..I wept like a baby."

The bitterness in his last words spoke volumes to the work he still had to do in order to get back to the Horatio she had once known. Although he'd taken great strides, his self-confidence was shaky at best. Had Laura sensed his vulnerability and taken advantage of it….of him?

"She told me that it would all be ok….that the past was forgiven. I finally felt as if I could move on but she…."

"She what, Horatio?" She knew what he would say next and did not want to hear it, yet she had to. She had to know what his ex-wife had put him through, they wouldn't be able to move past this if they didn't.

"She kissed me."

His voice was barely a whisper, the shame evident in his tone as he hung his head. He raised his right hand in a fist and put it to his mouth, screwing his eyes shut as he waited for her reaction. He'd been a complete bastard, he had betrayed the trust Calleigh had placed in him, he would never be able to make it right again.

"What did you do?" her voice was equally as soft as his had been at his shameful admission.

"I froze," he admitted as he let out a pained sigh, whichever way he cut this, Calleigh would end up getting hurt, it was the last thing he wanted to happen, but he owed it to her now to explain as best he could. "It was just all too much to take in….I couldn't make sense of anything and her touch…..it reminded of me of everything I had and lost….all the people I hurt back in New York."

He reached out blindly for her hand, still not able to look at her for fear of seeing the pain that he was causing her. He felt overwhelming relief when she didn't pull away. "I wish I could make you understand how hard this is….how difficult it's been to try to put everything back together again….how hard it is to know who I am anymore."

"I do understand, Horatio. I've been there every step of the way with you." There was no accusation in her voice, only silent disappointment.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. How could he make her see how difficult this was for him?

"I know you have, Sweetheart. I know how difficult I've been to live with these last few months, believe me."

"I understand, Horatio," she repeated. "Just tell me what happened."

He really didn't want to be doing this. After everything he had suffered, why was he being made to cause Calleigh so much pain too?

"I got lost in the moment for a little while….what she was offering, it seemed so inviting. It was so tempting to want to go back to a time when things seemed so much simpler. I let her kiss me….until I realised what I was doing was wrong and that I was hurting you. I swear, Calleigh…..I never wanted to hurt you."

Still she sat by him as he gripped her hand tighter, she made no move to break the contact, but she refused to look at him either. "I broke away….I told her that what we were doing was wrong and that I didn't care for her that way anymore. I got as far away from her as I could….but she just kept coming for me, Calleigh…..She kept trying to convince me that she was sorry and that she still loved me. You were right, Sweetheart…..I should never have met up with her…..I'm sorry."

"Did you want to sleep with her?" she asked the question again so quietly that his heart ached to hear the pain in her voice.

"Calleigh…."

"Please, Horatio…..I need to know."

How could he tell her without breaking her heart? How could he tell her that he was still waging an internal battle in his heart and mind as to who he really was anymore, was he John or Horatio, or an amalgamation of them both?

Yet he'd started this by telling Calleigh that he needed to meet up with Lori in the first place, he had begged her to trust him, and he had betrayed her, he had so nearly fallen for Lori's capricious charms. But he'd pulled away and threw her out of his house, surely that counted for something?

He rubbed at his eyes tiredly as he consigned himself to defeat, his admissions would push Calleigh away for good, but perhaps that was no more than he deserved.

"She hounded me," he finally spoke. "I tried to push her away….believe me, I tried." His eyes conveyed the regret he held in his heart for his part in yesterday's events. "But she just kept coming and part of me…..part of me wanted to forget, just for a few moments, how complicated things have become. She kissed me again and I lost my senses…..I couldn't stop her…..I knew what she was doing...and yet I couldn't stop her."

The despair in his voice was evident as his breath hitched noticeably a number of times. "All of those feelings I had for her….they came rushing back and I couldn't stop it….I couldn't stop _her_. But I knew it was wrong…..I knew what we were doing was wrong, that I was wrong. I pushed her away again….I got as far away as I could, but she still kept coming. I yelled at her to leave….to leave me alone and go back to New York, but she wouldn't listen. God…..I was so angry with her….with myself, with what we'd nearly done….I wanted to lash out at something...anything….I knew that if I couldn't make her back off and leave me be….I knew…..I knew I'd….I wouldn't be able to hold back any longer…..I couldn't take anymore….I almost….I wanted her to leave me alone. Why couldn't she just let me be, Calleigh?...I swear to God….if she hadn't left when she had…..I don't know what I would have done."

His voice broke at his shocking confession. In all the years that she had known Horatio she had never once thought of him as anything but a kind and gentle man, certainly not the kind of person who would ever raise his hand to a woman. But it was becoming more apparent that recent events had changed the man before her more than she realised, he was still so emotionally vulnerable and his ex-wife had used his weakness to her own gain. Laura had obviously stirred up some deep-seated emotions within him for Horatio to admit that he'd even considered wanting to hit her.

"Would you?" she asked finally, afraid of his answer.

The question seemed to take him by surprise. "Would I what?"

"Would you have hit her?"

She could feel his shock at her question. "Of course I wouldn't. Is that what you think of me?" He buried his face in his hands, distraught to think that Calleigh would consider, even for a moment, that he could be capable of such a thing.

But she'd had to ask, his emotions were unstable at best at the moment. He'd been through such a traumatic experience that it was no wonder his behaviour and moods had been so erratic. For years, she and the team had placed Horatio on a pedestal, believing that he was some kind of invincible superhero, that he was not affected by the traumatic events that he had suffered. He had always seemed to be like a Timex watch, taking a licking and keeping on ticking.

But his resilience had finally run out on him as his past and present came crashing down on him so forcefully that it had left him helpless in their wake. She and the team had been confronted by the fact that Horatio was just as human as the rest of them, if not more so. He felt emotions much more deeply than any of them had realised, he'd spent years hiding it so well until his physical strength had been brutally torn away from him. Without that strength, he had been unable to hide his human frailties and the team had seen first-hand just how vulnerable that had left him.

He'd begged her to let him do this, she kicked herself that she hadn't tagged along too, but he'd needed to do it alone even though he knew the risk he was taking in doing so. Alexx had been clear in her words yesterday as they echoed those of Horatio, she needed to let him stand on his own two feet and make his own choices. And so she had, but look what had happened. His ex-wife had attempted to sink her claws back into him and had nearly succeeded in tempting him to betray the woman he truly loved.

He had been manipulated by Laura, almost tricked by the lure of a life he once had. She had known what he'd been through, and that he'd been vulnerable, and used it to her advantage, not caring about the devastating consequences it could have on the relationship he was currently in. She was hurt and disappointed by what had happened, yet she wasn't surprised, she had expected as much when she had let him go yesterday morning. She had prayed then that he would make the right choice and return home to her, and he had. He had pushed Laura away and chose a life with her instead.

Her anger should not be placed at Horatio's door, he had gone into a situation that he knew might not end well but had done it for the sake of his relationship with her. He had risked everything he held dear in order to have some chance at a future with the woman he loved. He had been aware that she would have been well within her rights to leave him, yet she couldn't. She couldn't blame him for wanting to find some kind of peace in the nightmare that his world had become, there was still so much work that he had to do in order to put his life back together.

Until now, most of the hurdles he had faced had been with his physical recovery, each time he had faltered then she had not left him to his own devices to suffer, she had held on to him tighter and given him the strength to move forward. Now was no different, now would be the hardest and most painful journey of all. The road to forgiveness would be treacherous and hard, filled with many blind turns along the way. Yet it was a road that she had promised that she would not let him travel alone, when things got tough, she would not turn her back on him at the first sign of trouble. She would stand by his side, weathering the storm with him, letting him know that he was not alone.

He needed her strength and understanding, what had transpired with Laura had not been his fault and in the end he'd had the courage to turn his back on his past and chose a future with her. It would not be easy to build that life together, but she was in no doubt that she had been right to gift her heart to a man as noble as Horatio, they would take the hits and keep on moving despite them.

She had no reason to be angry with him, it had obviously cost him a great deal to be as open and honest with her as he had, knowing that he would be risking all that he held so dear by doing so. He'd done it though, once more he'd shown how selfless he was when it came to the needs and wants of others. He'd risked it all….for her.

She gently peeled his hands away from his face and was dismayed to see the tears brimming in his eyes, she cupped his cheeks gently as she spoke to him. "Look at me, Horatio."

His eyes refused to look anywhere but at his lap.

"Look at me," she repeated, more firmly this time.

He couldn't do it, he knew what was coming. He knew that she would tell him that it was over, that he was no longer welcome in her home. He'd drag his weary body from her bed and be forced back into a house that seemed so cold and lonely. He didn't want to hear what she was about to say.

"Look at me, Horatio. Please." Her own breath hitched and this time his eyes met hers. "Thank you for being honest with me."

He nodded his head sadly, waiting for the punch line that he knew was coming. Her next movement caught him by surprise as she leaned in and placed a tender kiss on his lips. "I love you," she whispered against his mouth.

He pulled away slightly, "You should hate me, I betrayed you."

"No you didn't, I could never hate you…..I love you. Kiss me, please?"

He didn't understand why she had given him a reprieve, but she had. She should hate him right now. Why wasn't she righteously angry with him instead?

As her lips touched his again he told himself not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he'd admitted his weaknesses to her and yet still she held firm, refusing to let him go. If he'd had any doubt before, he was sure of himself now that Calleigh was the right woman for him, she always had been. Why had it taken him so long to realise that?

One look in her emerald eyes and he could see the love she held for him, complicated and damaged as he was, she loved him despite it all. He could hold back no longer, his hands went to her face as he matched her kiss with one of his own. Her hands began to roam his chest and back as he made short work of the shirt of his that she had been wearing. Now was the time to show her just how much he did love her as he laid her gently down on the pillows and began losing himself in the moment, taking his time to make sure she knew how very special she was to him.


	74. Chapter 74

"What do you want?" she asked after she had recovered her senses.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" the voice of her visitor berated loudly, loud enough for her neighbours down the hall to register their displeasure at the noise by banging on the paper-thin walls of the hotel.

She looked her visitor up and down. "I don't have to explain myself to you," she told him dismissively as she began to close the door, intent on finishing the conversation before it'd had a chance to get started.

A hand shot up to stop the door in its tracks. "Yes you damn well do!"

The person standing in her doorway would likely not take no for an answer, and she herself had no desire to create a scene in the hotel hallway, she'd embarrassed herself enough yesterday, that was more than enough to last a lifetime. Turning her back with a sigh, she sat herself down heavily on the bed and waited for the verbal volleys to begin.

"Do you have any idea what you've done to him?" her visitor asked as he stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest.

"John's a big boy, he can look after himself." She had no desire to explain herself anymore.

"You've got no idea, have you? You have no idea what they did to him….how long it took him to get back to this point…"

She interrupted her guest before he'd had a chance to continue. "Yes I do, I saw the scars. " She visibly shuddered as the image of his damaged flesh came to mind again.

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it. He doesn't need you here….messing with his head. Why did you come?"

How dare this person question her motive and actions, she didn't have to explain herself to him. "I came here because I deserved to know the truth about him!" Her outburst took her by surprise as much as it did the person standing a few feet away from her.

"You don't deserve shit from him, Laura. That guy doesn't owe you anything."

"And just what has that got to do with you, Andy?" she spat back, feeling her ire rise as she found herself on the receiving end of his angry outburst.

"It's got everything to do with me when I've been the one trying to help him piece his life back together for the last six months. Do you have any idea how hard this has been for him….for all of us, to sit back and watch while he struggled to get back on his feet?"

"What do you want…..a medal?" Her response was petulant and uncalled for, yet she couldn't seem to help herself. It was bad enough that John had pushed her away, she didn't need his old partner coming around making her feel worse than she already did.

He stood there speechless for a few moments, his mouth opening and closing several times. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

Jesus, what did John ever see in this woman in the first place? Laura flitted between angry outbursts and flat-out hurtful jibes with alarming frequency, he found it hard to believe that there was even a beating heart at all under that ice cold exterior of hers.

She was a beautiful woman, he couldn't deny that. Beauty was only skin deep, beneath the surface seemed to lurk a cold and heartless monster that took pleasure in tearing the souls out of the men that she met, stomping on them with her heeled boot until there was nothing left but shredded flesh.

He'd seen it with his own eyes, he'd seen the way she had taken a man as carefree and loving as John and turned him into nothing more than a broken shell of the person he used to be. He'd been the one that sat with him those first few weeks as the younger man drank himself into a stupor before wailing at the world and his lot in life.

Had he been a stronger man himself, he would have taken the bottle of scotch away from his partner, commanded him to get up off his ass and get on with his life. But he hadn't, he'd seen it as an excuse to indulge in his own weakness for alcohol, he'd been the one to top John's glass up every time it looked like he was close to finishing it. They had sat together in his dingy apartment, drinking and brooding.

* * *

**Flashback. New York 1993:**

He felt awkward just sitting and watching John as the younger man balled his right hand into a fist and gripped it between his teeth. The tension running through the man was enough to turn his knuckles white had they not been hidden under the makeshift bandages that were slowly beginning to spot with specks of fresh blood.

"John, take it easy." His words seemed to fall on deaf ears as his partner continued to chew on his bandaged hand, shaking his head every once in a while as if holding a private conversation with himself in his head.

He was at a loss for what else to do, roughly pulling himself from the kitchen table, he quickly peered down into John's lap to check that he was not currently carrying his service weapon, he let out a deep breath when he confirmed that he wasn't. John was clearly not himself at the moment, and it gave his partner cause for concern as to what might be capable of.

Trundling into the kitchenette, he rifled through the cupboard until he found what he'd been looking for. Hidden behind cans and jars was an old bottle of scotch, along with a number of other liquors, all of the glass containers had been opened, differing amounts had already been drained from them. It wasn't as if John was paying any attention to where he hid his stash, the kid looked like he could do with a drink anyway.

He picked up two glass tumblers and sat back down at the table, John still in exactly the same position he'd left him in a few minutes earlier. Unscrewing the cap, he poured two large measures and thrust the glass under his partner's nose. "Drink it," he commanded as he sunk his own quickly.

John looked at him with a dazed expression, he pointed down to the scotch again and repeated the command. "Drink it, kid." The blue eyes of his partner slowly descended to the tumbler, the bandaged hand shaking slightly as he lifted it to his lips.

"Don't make me tell you again," he growled, instantly relieved when John slugged the drink back in one and screwed his eyes shut as the heat of the alcohol registered in his throat, causing him to cough noticeably.

The scotch seemed to have the desired effect, after a few minutes as his partner's shaking slowly subsided and was replaced with abject misery instead. He kept the drinks coming, even when he could see that John had reached his limits, he didn't need much persuasion to keep going until the bottle was empty.

He eyed John with genuine concern as the tension drained from his body, the alcohol causing the strength needed to hold his frame upright to drain away. He watched as the younger man struggled to keep his head up as he began to sway from side to side on the chair.

"More," John commanded as he looked at him with unfocused eyes.

"Maybe you've had enough, kid," he suggested as he saw how unsteady John was becoming.

"And maybe I haven't," came the slurred response.

He shook his head, his partner certainly didn't have the resistance to alcohol that he had. He'd had a little buzz going himself, nowhere near enough to make him feel truly drunk though. It would take at least another two bottles for that to happen. John was more than a few sheets to the wind, so he picked up a half-empty bottle of gin and took it back to the table, hoping that the other man wouldn't notice that most of the contents had already been consumed.

He needn't have bothered, he found John collapsed on the table with his weary head resting on his arms. He debated whether or not to leave him there, the young man would certainly pay for it in the morning if he slept in such an uncomfortable position. His concern for his partner overrode his desire to pour himself another drink just yet, he grabbed John under the arms and dragged him the few feet to the couch before setting him down, lifting his legs into a more comfortable position.

Covering him with an old blanket, he sat back down on his chair and poured himself a measure of gin as he watched his young friend sleep.

* * *

"Oh, Jesus."

The pained way the voice spoke was enough to shake him out of his dreamless state, his eyes opened suddenly as the blanket fell away from his body. It was only then that he remembered that he'd sat in the comfy leather chair opposite his partner to watch over him when the hard wooden seat at the kitchen table became too much for his considerable weight.

Looking down, his eyes cast across to the empty bottle of vodka by his side and the glass tumbler that had fallen to the carpet and rested on its side. Visions of the night before came back to him slowly, he only hoped that John hadn't drunk as much as he did.

"Oh, God," the voice spoke again.

He raised his gaze and found John laying on his side looking particularly green around the gills, he watched him turn over to his back and place his bandaged hand on his forehead. "Andy?" he called out pathetically as he kept his eyes closed, trying to stop the room from spinning.

"Yeah, kid?"

"I think I'm gonna be sick." The voice was quiet but urgent. He reacted quickly and pulled himself up, grabbing the plastic waste paper basket and shoving it under the other man's nose.

He grimaced as he heard John retch pitifully, the smell of vomit wafted slowly across the room, he wrinkled his nose and made his way to the bathroom intent on taking a shower and getting ready for his shift at the Precinct.

Washed and dressed, he shuffled back into the lounge to find his partner in exactly the same position that he'd left him in. He shook the other man's shoulder gently in an effort to rouse him.

"Leave me alone," the voice mumbled miserably.

"No can do, kid. You better get your ass in that shower, our shift starts in an hour."

The eyes of the younger man remained closed as he shrugged off the hand on his shoulder. "I'm not going, let me sleep."

"No."

One of John's eyes cracked open, Andy couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face as he saw the pathetic look on the man's face. "What do you mean no?"

He crossed his arms over his chest as he spoke. "I mean that you're not staying here wallowing in your own pity. Get your ass up and go to work, don't let Laura think that she's won. Show her that you're more than that."

Both eyes opened now, his heart ached to see the pity in them. "But she has won. She broke my heart, Andy."

He'd never been particularly good at all the hearts and flowers type of stuff, he was more a man of actions rather than words. With that in mind, he grabbed John by the t-shirt and pulled him from the couch until he'd raised him to his feet, roughly pointing him in the direction of the bathroom and giving him a firm shove for good measure.

He let out a small laugh at the scowl John sent his way as he traipsed wearily to the bathroom muttering under his breath. Perhaps sharing his stash of alcohol with John had been a mistake, the younger man clearly couldn't hold his liquor. It was while he was in the shower that he realised that he had no desire to see the potential in his partner be drained away by addiction and grief like his own had.

He could have let him sleep it off, let him wallow in his self-pity, for that was what he had done many years ago himself. He sure wished he'd had someone looking out for him back then, maybe his life wouldn't have been circling the drain like it was right now. It was too late for him, he'd made his choice and would be forced to live with the consequences. But he wanted better for John, he didn't want him to take the same path he had. Misery was a lonely road to travel and no matter how much he might have longed for a companion to travel it with him, he was damn sure it wouldn't be the man in he'd grown to love as a son.

* * *

The pattern of drunken wallowing had been repeated consistently over the last few weeks, even though he promised himself that each night at the end of their shift it would be different. Somehow, he just couldn't resist the lure of booze as he convinced his down-heartened partner to join him at the local bar for 'just one drink' each night. One had always multiplied into several more, each night he half-carried, half-dragged John back to his apartment where they again indulged in more alcohol.

He was impressed with kid's increasing tolerance to the rancid drinks he was tipping down his throat. Listening to John bitch and moan about his failed marriage to Laura was next to impossible when they were both sober. He was hardly an authority on the subject when it came to women, the idea of sitting and talking about his feelings scared the shit out of him. No, it was always much easier to deal with John's maudlin ramblings after he'd fortified himself with half a bottle of scotch.

He realised that it was a dangerous path they were travelling, drinking had always been his choice, his answer to his problems, but now he was dragging his vibrant young partner down the same road. He'd always wanted better for the kid, not wanting him to end up like the bitter old fool he was. His intentions had been good from the start, but he'd started dragging John down before he'd even realised what he'd been doing. If it weren't for today's events he could so easily have continued ruining not only his career, but that of his partner too.

The night before had included a particularly heavy drinking session as both men entered the squad room looking bleary-eyed and uncomfortable, setting themselves down heavily at their desks. John had been in one of his more depressive moods, meandering from one sob story to another about the woman he had loved and lost.

At least the poor guy had been spared having to see Laura these past few weeks, but only because he'd managed to stop the idiot from banging on her door and begging for her to take him back. Each time John had worked up the courage to visit the apartment he used to share with his wife, he would have to be the voice of reason, the man who had to talk his partner out of making a huge mistake and a complete prat of himself.

It was inevitable that there would come a time when their paths would cross, they both worked for the same side after all. They would likely have to work together on a case sooner or later, he'd just hoped it would be later…..much later.

"Shit," he grumbled as he saw Laura make her way through the knee-high gate. It was enough to make John look up at him and then across the room. "Stay where you are, let me deal with her."

He dragged his bulky frame up and trundled over to her, meeting her in the middle of the room. "What do you want, Laura?" he growled as he made furtive glances back over to his partner.

"I need to speak to my husband about a few things, if that's ok with you?" she responded sarcastically before brushing past him and making her way to John.

He knew this wasn't going to end well, perhaps it was better if he just stayed out of it. He kept a close eye on her as he listened in to their conversation.

Her eyes narrowed as she took in the beleaguered appearance of the man she loved. "How have you been?" she asked him gently.

"Dandy," he replied without looking up at her. "You?"

She let out a sigh of frustration, knowing that he would not make this easy for her. There would be no point prolonging the agony though, like ripping a band aid from a cut, it would be better to do this quickly rather than draw the whole process out.

"Look, I came here to ask what you want me to do with the rest of your stuff. Are you planning to come round for it, or should I give it to the Goodwill?"

His mouth fell open. Whatever he had been expecting his wife to say, it sure wasn't that. How could she move on so easily when he was suffering every day? Their marriage had broken down, and all she could think about was clearing out his stuff. It was as if she wanted every reminder of their time together to be erased from her memory. He just sat there staring at her, unable to move or say anything.

"John, did you hear what I said?" she repeated, loud enough for some of the other detectives to stop what they were doing and listen in instead.

"Throw it out. Burn it. Do what you want. I don't care," he said finally as anger began to set in. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing how much he was hurting.

"Why are you being so childish?"

How dare she come here, to where he worked, to embarrass him in front of his colleagues? Hadn't she stomped on his ego enough already, was she trying to completely emasculate him?

"Do what you want. Just get out of my face." His words came out in a low growl now, she was pushing him to the edge, far too close to the edge. Much more and he would not be able to keep a lid on his temper any longer.

"I came here to sort things out," she shot back as she huffed her disapproval at his behaviour, convincing herself that this was as easy for her as she was trying to make it seem.

The speed at which he stood up and got in her face caused her to gasp audibly. "No, you came here to rip out what was left of my heart and stomp on it just to make sure. Are you satisfied now?"

"John…."

"Just go," he told her dismissively as he turned his back on her, waiting until he heard her high-heeled shoes click their way back towards the stairwell, wishing for all the world that the earth would open up and swallow him whole.

That had been the final straw for him, when John had stumbled back to his apartment that night with an unopened bottle of scotch with the intent of drinking it, he took the booze from his hands and sat his partner down on the couch. "This ends here, kid."

"Give me the bottle back."

"No. You're not drinking anymore of this shit," he told him firmly as he lifted the bottle in his left hand and placed it out of John's reach. "It's time to sober up. You're gonna get your ass up early tomorrow and look for your own apartment. You're gonna show that woman that she hasn't got your balls in a vice anymore, you hear me?"

John looked at him with a mixture of disappointment and confusion. "I thought you could stay here for as long as I needed?" His words slurred slightly as he gave him his best puppy-dog eyes.

"This is not what you need, John. _I'm_ not what you need." The other man continued to look at him with some confusion, he tried again to make him understand. "You've had enough time wallowing, now you need to get back up and start fighting again."

"And what if I don't want to?"

He crossed his arms over his stomach as he spoke. "Then I'll drag your ass every step of the Goddamn way. Don't let her win, kid. You're better than her."

* * *

**Miami. Present day:**

"I'm warning you, Laura. Just stay the hell away from him or so help me God…"

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, I'm telling you to pack your bags, get your coat and get on the next plane back to New York."

"And what if I don't want to?" she replied haughtily.

"Then I might do something we'll all regret." The menace was clear in his tone as he gave her a look frightening enough to cause her to gasp. "Don't make me tell you again. Go home, Laura. I'm done asking you nicely."


	75. Chapter 75

She watched him quietly as he slept, his lean form lying next to hers in the bed as he draped one arm over her stomach in an unconscious act of possessiveness. She had napped for a little while herself, but was more concerned on watching him as he finally caught up on some more of the rest that he so desperately needed.

Her heart had sunk when his hands shook as her laid her down on the pillows, the dominant and forceful man from the night before had once again been replaced with the tentative and nervous Horatio of the recent past. He had been doing so well up until yesterday, she knew it had been far too soon for him to confront Laura, yet she knew she was powerless to stop him from doing so.

He had been sweet and gentle, much like the first time they made love, he took his time kissing and caressing her, yet even she could not fail to hear the sorrow and uncertainty in his voice has he whispered how much he loved her. As they became one and his head lifted to meet her gaze, they kept their eyes locked on each other's faces the whole time, his eyes shining with unshed tears as they began to move in unison.

No matter his own mental anguish, he had made sure that she found her release first as he bit down on a sob and buried his face in her neck, whispering over and over how sorry he was. She could do nothing but hold his trembling body to hers as he wept quietly into her shoulder, rubbing soothing circles on the damaged and scarred flesh on his back.

She whispered nonsensical words of comfort into his ear as he finally lifted his weight off of her and pulled her to him, their arms and legs entwined. They had both drifted off into an uneasy sleep, her last thoughts being that she would track Laura down and make her pay for what she had done to her lover.

It worried her that Horatio's face had taken on a permanent frown as he slept, she had hoped that their lovemaking might have helped relax him, but still he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, even as he slept, he could not get away from the pain and confusion.

He had mumbled incoherently a number of times during the morning and early afternoon, she knew that he would gently chide her for letting him sleep most of the day away, but it was clear that he needed it. What did it matter anyway? It wasn't like they needed to be at the Lab today, and if they were, they would likely be called by Dispatch on their cell phones.

Hers had not gone off once today, neither had his. It was only as she watched him sleep that she realised that she had no idea where his might be, Kyle had said he couldn't reach his father on it earlier, she had presumed that he had turned it off and left it in his pants pocket. Then her mind cast back to last night.

_Last night..._

His phone had definitely not been in his pants as he pushed her against the hallway wall, that much she knew for sure. But if it wasn't there, then where was it?

She returned her attention to him as he moaned softly and shifted his weight, she reached out a hand and smoothed back a lock of hair from his head as he calmed under her touch. It felt good to know that she could reach him in a way that others couldn't, he had responded to her without even realising it, a skill that she had employed more than once in the recent past.

For so long now, he had been consumed by the ghosts of his past as they haunted him mercilessly day and night. Numerous flashbacks had caught him off guard in the months that he'd struggled to recover from what had been done to him, still his demons haunted him at night, providing no let-up in his tormented suffering.

But this week things had been getting better, Horatio had finally relented and agreed to talk to a professional in a bid to lay his demons to rest once and for all. He had wavered at times, but his strength both physical and emotional had been returning to him at a steady pace. He had finally been showing signs of the man that she once knew, and it filled her with hope that he was finally beginning to move on from the horrors of his past.

But like a race car skidding out of control and hitting a wall at high speed, everything had come crashing to a halt with devastating effect. The groundwork had been laid and the foundations built, it had seemed to her as if they finally had a solid base to build from until he told her of his plans to meet his ex-wife, to clear the air with her and enable himself to move on properly.

She had been wary, and more than a little frightened, that Horatio spending the day with a woman such as Laura was a huge mistake. Yet she'd been told by both Horatio and Alexx that he needed time and space to make his own decisions, she had put her fears to one side and allowed him the freedom to make his own choice. Would he admit to himself now that it had been the wrong decision?

His load had been lightened considerably over the past few days, as she watched him sleep restlessly, she could not deny that he once again seemed troubled. His admission to her about how close he came to losing control had more than likely taken them both by surprise. After all the work Jeff had done with him, it seemed as if he had found a new reason to blame himself and decide that he was no longer worthy of her love.

It wasn't going to work though, not this time. He had done nothing wrong, his ex-wife had literally forced herself upon him and took advantage of his vulnerable state. Had it been he who forced himself on her there would be an outcry and accusations of rape, how could it be fair that a woman taking advantage of a man wasn't seen in the same light?

Laura had chipped away at the strength and resolve that he had managed to rebuild recently, loosening the ties that held his fragile emotional state together. She had no doubt that Andy had told her of the horrific ordeal he had been through, and she had used it to her own advantage, bending his emotions and feelings to her own will, confusing him as to what was real and what was fantasy.

Laura had played him like a fiddle, offering her forgiveness and providing him with false hope before sensing her moment to strike, sinking her claws into his flesh and into his heart once more. She was the ultimate predator, a panther waiting patiently in the shadows for the perfect time to attack. He had been easy prey for her, like a lone gazelle separated from the herd, she had waited until she had him on his own, defenceless, before she pounced.

And once she had made her move she would not let go, sinking her claws and her teeth further into him as she felt his resolve weaken and the fight leave his body. He was at her mercy, yet she had played with him, taunting him until she had satisfied herself that he was hers alone to do with as she pleased.

Her arrogance had been her undoing, he had used his last reserves of strength to break away from her, creating distance between predator and prey until he once again had room to breathe and make good on his escape. The way in which he countered her attack had surprised her, it gave him enough time to shore up his defences, pushing her away and meeting her attempts at attack with an aggression of his own. She had heeded his warning, and finally left him to lick his wounds in solitude. Like all good predators, she knew that her prey had been weakened, that she would just have to bide her time until the opportunity to attack presented itself once more.

He had somehow made it back home, emotionally wounded from his encounter with his ex-wife, limping back into the arms of the woman he loved. She hoped that his progress had not just taken a huge step backwards, he had been left battered and bruised by his encounter with Laura and she prayed that he had the ability to bounce back quickly and put the whole sorry business behind him. And she would give him that time for the wounds to heal, knowing that he would always find his way back to her.

The urge to protect him was almost too much, it caused her physical pain to watch him suffer so, yet this time she could not….no she would not go into battle for him. All she could do was stand defiantly by his side and hope to imbue him with some of her own strength, believing that her faith in him would be enough to pull both of them through.

Like a sentry standing guard, she lay next to him in bed, watching him sleep.

_Consciousness, and the senses associated with it, returned slowly to him as he found himself lying on a cold and wet surface. He could feel the dampness seep into his bones as he tried to gain his bearings and figure out where the hell he was. He heard the sound of water dripping slowly, the torturous sound enough to remind him that he was thirsty…..so very thirsty._

_He licked at his dry lips, wincing as his tongue came into contact with open wounds around his mouth, it was then that he recognised the tangy taste of his own blood. He lifted a hand to the damaged area, letting his throbbing head fall back down to the hard ground in defeat when he realised that his arms were bound together with what felt like rope._

_It was only then that it occurred to him that he could not see anything, the pitch-black nothingness around him began to create a sense of trepidation within him. He had always prided himself on being a fearless man, yet he was lying bound and injured in some foreign place with no idea how he had got there. His remaining senses kicked into overdrive as his panic at not being able to see increased._

_Who had done this to him? What had they done to his eyes, had they blinded him?_

Think, man, think!_ he commanded himself as he tried to regain his composure. His fuzzy brain would not give him any clear recollection of how he had got here. He only hoped that his team had realised he was missing and were already looking for him._

_He had been weakened by what they had done to him, he knew it would be pointless expending any more energy than he already had, he was bound and blinded with no hope of escape. But he had faith that his team would find him, he had taught them well. They would find him….he knew they would find him._

_The sound of a door opening made him jump, his heart rate increased as he heard the footsteps making their way towards him. Keeping as still as possible, he lay unmoving on the floor, hoping that whoever it was hadn't come to finish him off._

_The footsteps stopped suddenly, it was then that his nose caught a scent that seemed so familiar to him, yet he couldn't place it. His jumbled mind refused to process the olfactory sensation as the inklings of a memory began to tickle at the outskirts of his mind._

_He felt himself being grabbed by his t-shirt and yanked to his feet, his captor obviously strong enough to hold him upright as he swayed on shaky legs. "What do you want?" he asked in a croaky voice as he swallowed down on the dry sensation in his mouth._

_He received no answer and found himself being led from the room, a pair of strong hands pushing his back repeatedly. He had felt those hands before, hadn't he?_

_He'd been pushed down in a chair before he realised it, his hands tied behind his back, tugging on the restraints he found them looser than before. "Please, just tell me what it is that you want," he pleaded again as he heard the sound of something being unsheathed, his heart rate rocketing as he began to feel panic set in._

_There was still no answer. Suddenly, he felt hands all over him. Pushing and prodding. Slapping and hitting. It wasn't just one pair of hands but dozens. He tried to curl in on himself, to protect his body from further harm. It was futile. They kept coming for him over and over again, his flesh feeling as if it were on fire as they showed him no mercy._

_He tugged at the restraints, feeling a small amount of give in them. He had to get his hands free, he had to. Absorbing the blows as best he could, he finally managed to accomplish his task, pushing away at his abusers as he tried to escape until his hands found themselves wrapped around someone's throat. All of the other hands seemed to disappear suddenly._

_"Let me go," he growled as his grip tightened._

_He could feel thin fingers grabbing at his hand, gouging his flesh with their sharp nails as his captor struggled to free themselves from his vice-like grip. The movements of the fingers began to weaken until he heard a final breath leave the body of the one who had held him against his will._

_He released his grip slowly, letting the body fall lifelessly to the floor. The adrenaline continued to surge through his veins as he struggled to come down from the thrill of the fight. He'd just killed someone, he'd had no choice, it was do or die. Yet a part of him enjoyed it, a part of him liked the God-like feeling of having someone else's life in his hands, choosing whether they lived or died. He had gotten a buzz from hearing the last few breaths leave his captor's body. He'd enjoyed it._

_Now that his hands were free he could concentrate on finding his way out of the darkness, he reached up to his face and pulled roughly at the cloth around his eyes, wanting to look into the eyes of the monster who had taken him and held him against his will, to look down righteously at the one who had tried, and failed, to take him down._

_The bright light stung his eyes as he struggled to adjust to the sensation of his sight returning. Taking a few moments to get his bearings, he looked down, ready to see the face of his captor. The same eyes that had been blinded moments before now widened in horror as he looked down at the body at his feet. He had done this…..he had done this to her._

_His head fell back as he screamed and fell to his knees, crying out at anyone that could hear him. He'd done this to her and he had enjoyed it, what kind of monster had he become? He let out a feral scream, as if that alone would bring her back from the dead. But there was no point, she was dead. _

_And he had been the one to kill her.  
_

She had become lost in her own musings and had failed to hear Horatio growing increasingly restless beside her. His eyes rolled from left to right in his head, low moans emanated from his mouth as he grimaced against whatever he was battling in his mind. His movements became more strained as his arms moved suddenly, trying to push away something only he could see. She reached out a hand, ready to place it on his shoulder and shake him awake.

He shot up in bed suddenly, gasping for air as his hands shook in his lap. Still in the grips of his nightmare, he looked down at his hands and couldn't believe that they belonged to him. These were the hands that had killed her, his hands had caused her death. He raised them shakily, wishing he could cut them away from the rest of his body. But they were his, they always had been. These were the hands that were cursed, much like the rest of him, cursed forever to do harm to the people that he loved.

Her gentle hand on the small of his back caused him to jump visibly as he stared at her with panicked eyes. How could she love him, how could she love someone who was such a monster?

He tried to get away from her, he didn't want to hurt her too, right now he didn't trust himself or what he might be capable of. Her strong grip refused to let him go as she placed her hands on his shoulders and kept him in place.

"Please let me go," he begged her, bringing back memories of his vision. Would history repeat itself, would his dream become reality?

"Not until you tell me what you were dreaming about."

"Please, you have to let me go. I'm no good…..I'm a monster."

His voice was so sad, she watched him look down at his hands as if he didn't recognise them. She had a fairly good idea of what he'd been dreaming of, he'd shocked himself with his admission that he had barely kept control of himself as his ex-wife hounded him repeatedly, trying to force herself upon him. She had no doubt that he would be beating himself up about it, convincing himself that he was just as evil and twisted as the men who had took him.

They'd come too far now, she was not going to let him fall back down into that deep pit of despair, not this time. Taking affirmative action, she took his head in her hands and spoke to him softly. "No you're not. None of this is your fault, you hear me?"

He kept his eyes down, refusing to look at her.

"She did this to you. She's the one who's a monster, not you."

He screwed his eyes shut, he didn't want to hear this. She hadn't seen what he had, she hadn't done what he nearly had. She couldn't understand, she wouldn't see him for the violent monster he had turned into. He shook his head as much as he could in her firm grasp.

His eyes finally met hers, as he looked at her with profound sadness. "But I could have hit her, Calleigh. Don't you see what kind of an animal that makes me?"

"You didn't hit her. You're a good man, Horatio. Why can't you see that?"

He wanted to believe her, but God he was tired. He was tired of all of this, of the constant fighting against himself and the world. Each time he felt that he was taking a step forward, he found himself being pushed two steps further back. This was so hard, and he was so tired. Resistance was futile, he just wanted to curl up in a ball and return to the sweet sensation of blank nothingness that unconsciousness would give him.

It was as if she had read his mind, as she leaned over and lifted a small pot from the cabinet beside his bed. Tipping three pills out into her hand, she held it out to his shaking ones and dropped them into his palms. "Take them," she commanded him firmly as he looked at her nervously.

"Calleigh…."

"Take them. For me…..please?"

Finally he relented as he threw them into his mouth and swallowed them down with the glass of water she had given him.

"Lay down, I'm staying right here with you."

He followed her commands as she helped him lie back, running her fingers through his hair as he felt the pills take effect on his tired body. He looked into her face and saw nothing but the love she held for him as she smiled back down at him. He trusted her, he trusted her more than anyone else in the world. She seemed to know what he was thinking before he'd even formed the thought himself most of the time, conscious of his needs before he was.

But he was so tired, so tired that all he wanted to do was close his eyes and drift away, and he could, knowing that he was safe with her. She would not place unreasonable demands on him, she never had. She loved him for the man he was, even if there was a monster lurking deep inside.


	76. Chapter 76

The first thing she became aware of was the incessant squawking of the alarm by her bedside, she reached out blindly and pounded it into submission until it ceased its irritating tone. She had watched him for hours, protecting him from unseen threats, the pills seemed to have the desired effect as he slept peacefully for the rest of the day and night.

Their effects seemed to be wearing off now though, as she watched him let out a low groan, rubbing his eyes before opening them. "Calleigh?" he questioned in a sleep-roughened voice.

She leaned over and placed a delicate kiss on his check. "I'm right here."

"What time is it?"

"Time to get up for work," she responded with a sigh. "Why don't you take the day off and get some more rest?"

He shook his head as he pulled himself into a sitting position. "I have to go in. Sleeping isn't going to make this go away is it?" He gave her a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, he pulled the covers back and pulled himself out of bed. It was then that he realised that he was completely naked, a quick glance at Calleigh proved that the same was true for her.

What had they done yesterday? He honestly couldn't remember much past eating breakfast in bed. Running a hand through his hair roughly, he forced himself to remember what had transpired after that.

Suddenly, it came to him.

He remembered now, how he admitted that Lori had almost broken his resolve, how he had almost committed the biggest mistake of his life, how he had pushed Lori away before he lost his temper completely. Then, he remembered how close he had come to losing control completely, how frightened she looked, how terrified he was to discover that he could almost be capable of such a thing.

He'd expected Calleigh to push him away, to treat him like the monster that he was. Yet she didn't, she pulled him closer and showed him nothing but love and understanding. It should have made him feel good, to know that he had someone as special as Calleigh to love him, yet all it did was make him feel worse, feeling as if he was not worthy of her patience and understanding.

She sat in bed as she watched him lose himself in his thoughts, watching the muscles in his face clench as he obviously recounted the events of yesterday and sought to place the blame squarely at his own door. She'd given him time, hoping that he would come to the realisation himself that he had not been to blame. Time and rest had not seemed to heal the raw and open wounds that his ex-wife had inflicted on him, and so she rose from the bed to stand before him.

She took both of his hands in her own and squeezed them firmly until he met her gaze. "Don't let her do this to you, Horatio. Don't let her win."

His face crumbled as he looked at her in sheer despair. "I can't get it out of my head….what I could have done….What am I going to do, Calleigh?"

"You have an appointment today?" she asked gently. He nodded his head, knowing exactly which appointment she was referring to. "Talk to him, you can't keep holding all of this stuff inside….it's eating you up...I can't bear to see you suffer." Her voice broke suddenly as she struggled to get the last few words out.

Despite his own pain, he pulled her close and enveloped her in a fierce hug, wanting to take away the sadness that he alone had caused her. He placed a hand on her head as he kept her close to his chest, kissing her hair gently.

"We'll get through this," she told him with conviction.

"I know, Sweetheart."

"Just promise me that you won't let go….Promise me that you won't give up."

But oh how he wanted to, he wanted nothing more than to give up and let them win. His life had become a daily battle, a warzone with no sign of peace in sight. But just who was he fighting, the demons that threatened to take him over or his own conscience? The longer the battle raged, the weaker he was becoming. Just as he thought he was making progress, some unseen ghoul would pounce from behind and threaten to drag him down further into Hell than he was before.

But she was his beacon of light, his source of hope in a time where everything seemed so futile. She provided the radiance in his world full of shadows, giving him heart when he felt his own faith waning. Giving him the will to keep moving, even when life tried to beat him back down again. With her by his side he would keep fighting, no matter how many times he tripped or stumbled, her hand would be held out for him to grab onto, pulling him back to his feet once more. He would dust himself off, steel his courage and live to fight another day.

She was his source of strength, standing by his side and offering him nothing but love and comfort, filling him with the belief that he could be a better man, making him _want_ to be a better man, for her. She had asked for nothing in return, never asking him for more than he could give her. He was damaged, at times unable to reciprocate the love she had shown him, confused by emotions that he thought he once understood but now seemed so alien to him. Confused by the fact that he continued to struggle to separate his past from his present, frightened of the feelings that he could or would not comprehend as his overworked mind battled to regain some sort of equilibrium.

He had no idea if her faith in him was justified, he couldn't see what she so clearly could, that there was something there, someone buried beneath the pain and confusion that was worth saving. When his strength deserted him, what remained of the man that had been left behind? What did she see in him that he couldn't?

He trusted her, he trusted her judgment that there was something there, no matter how small, that was worth fighting for. Would she be the one to help him rebuild his shattered life, to help him heal the wounds of the past and finally make peace with himself? Could he ever truly find the courage to ask for the forgiveness of the one person he was too frightened to ask?

Forgiveness was the key, it would be the one thing that would bring him salvation, the one thing that would lift the heavy burden he had been carrying for too long now. Making peace with the people from his past was only part of the solution, he alone held the answer. He alone would be the only one who could end this.

He held onto her tighter, willing himself to find the strength to do what was needed. He whispered in her ear the words that he hoped he would be able to honour. "I won't give up….I promise you."

* * *

Ryan and Eric were both in the locker room when their cell phones chirped simultaneously.

"It's from Tripp," Eric said as he read the message. "Says uniforms found a DB in Biscayne Boulevard, down in the Spanish quarter. Says it's urgent too."

"Wanna drive, Eric?" Ryan responded with a sigh as he shut his locker, hoping to get at least a few hours peace and quiet before the shift got into full swing, when crime scenes and bodies started piling up.

"Hell yeah. Seniority remember?"

The two men smiled at each other, having called a truce and airing their grievances at the bar several days ago. "Just remember, Delko. Payback's a bitch."

The two of them spent most of the drive to Biscayne Boulevard and its gang-heavy Hispanic community discussing the scores from college football and basketball games, doing anything they could to avoid talking about Horatio and the events of last week.

Neither had seen or heard from the Lieutenant in the past two days, Eric wasn't sure if he was relieved or had even more reason to be concerned at the lack of contact. He trusted Calleigh to keep an eye on him, even though his pride still stung at her harsh words and assessment of his recent behaviour, he had no doubts that she would watch over his brother in law when he couldn't.

But Horatio was a grown man, a man who certainly was not used to being weak and vulnerable. He had never before been in the position to need protecting and he could see the way it ate at him. The first few days of his return to the Lab had been nothing short of disastrous, as he watched a strong and vital man such as Horatio flounder and struggle as he tried to prove to himself, and the team, that he was still the leader they had come to rely on so heavily.

That should have been the time that the team had put on a united front and protected their colleague, yet they descended into arguments and petty squabbles instead. Even the normally level-headed Calleigh had struggled to keep a grip on events as they spiralled dangerously out of control. Horatio had never asked anything of his team, he had always been the one to provide them with support and understanding, unifying the team despite the differences they might have had.

He had never asked anything of them, yet when he needed them to step up, they had all failed him. Each and every one of them were to blame, they had all been more concerned with their own pain to see just how much their stoic leader was suffering still. They should have had his back, like he had always had theirs.

What did it say for the rest of the team that Horatio himself had to be the one to try to heal the rifts within the team? As much as he was still struggling to put past events behind him, he had put his needs to one side and tell the members of his team a few home truths.

Judging by the talk he had with Ryan at the bar, it was clear that Horatio had spoken to both of them privately and reiterated what was expected of them. It had served to unite the pair of them, both in shame for the way they had acted, and in determination that they would not let their superior down again.

There was already a large crowd growing by the time they pulled up in the Hummer. Uniformed officers were taping a large area of the densely populated, yet run-down neighbourhood, at least half a dozen squad cars were dotted around the scene. Small groups of young Hispanic men heavy with tattoos were watching on with interest, blatantly smoking marijuana as they perched on their lowered bikes, talking between themselves in hushed tones.

Eric pulled his kit from the vehicle and motioned for his colleague to follow him, both of them kept their hands close to their weapons, shoot-outs between locals and police had been known to happen before, neither of them were planning to take any chances. "What have we got, Frank?" he asked as he placed his kit down before pulling out a pair of latex gloves and snapping them on.

"Nice to see you've shown up finally," Frank groused as he ran a frustrated hand over his balding head. He at least had the good grace to apologise when he saw the pointed look Eric gave him. "Sorry, Delko. I've been here since 6am and this day sure ain't getting any damn better."

Ryan caught up and placed his kit down, clicking it open and pulling on his own latex gloves. "Is that when the call came in, why didn't the nightshift take it?"

"Because they're the meat-heads that got us into this mess in the first place."

The two CSIs looked at each other in confusion, the detective was not making any sense. Whose body was it that they were dealing with anyway?

"I'm not following, Frank. I think you're gonna have to start from the beginning on this one."

With a deep sigh of frustration, the detective pulled out his notepad and began a recitation of events that had led them to this point. "You know we've been keeping tabs on Jesus Fernandez since we released him?" Eric and Ryan nodded in understanding. "My guys on the dayshift were told to play it cool, hang back just out of sight and let the dumbass trip himself up."

"What's this got to do with Fernandez?" Ryan asked as he crouched down towards his kit.

"Some asswipe on nights decided it'd be a good idea to rattle the cage of the locals, spreading the word that Fernandez was talking to the cops in exchange for a deal."

"But Fernandez didn't?"

"No, Eric. He didn't, which is why the dead body we found this morning is such a problem."

The tall Texan took a couple of steps to the side so that both CSIs could see what was left of the victim. The clothes and hair were a match, although there was not much remaining of the man's face to identify him by sight alone. If any more proof was needed, the tattoos on the arms matched those of their suspect in the Simpson murder case. The body was unmistakably that of Jesus Fernandez.


	77. Chapter 77

"Please tell me you're joking," Ryan exclaimed incredulously. How could anyone have been so stupid as to hang their only real suspect in a murder case out to dry like that?

Granted, the man was gang-affiliated and had a long rap sheet, he was certainly no choir boy, but had he deserved the fate that had befallen him in the early hours of this morning?

Stood over the corpse was the bulky figure of Tom Loman, giving the body a cursory inspection before it would be transported back to the morgue for a full autopsy. "Cause of death is likely the gunshot wound to the face," the doctor mused out loud as he pushed his glasses further up his nose with a gloved hand.

"Ya think?" Frank shot back, clearly unimpressed with the doctor's ability to state the obvious.

One look at what remained of Jesus Fernandez showed that some kind of handgun had been forcefully placed into his mouth before it was fired. Not much remained on the mouth and jaw on the body, a gaping exit wound at the back of the skull was ringed with small pieces of brain matter, as was the scorched grass he was lying on. Although the matter of death was gruesome, it appeared that Jesus hadn't suffered for long before being executed.

"There is no need for sarcasm, Detective," the M.E shot back tartly as he resumed his inspection of the body. "Perhaps you'd like to join me in performing the autopsy?"

The burly Texan was in no mood to play games this morning, he bit back on the urge to retort in kind and instead waved his hand and turned his back on the prickly doctor. "I guess it's pretty obvious what happened here, I'll leave you two to process the scene."

"You heading back to base?" Eric asked over his shoulder as he bent down to open his kit.

"Yeah, I gotta go bang some heads together."

The two CSIs watched Frank storm off and slam his car door shut before screeching down the road back towards the department.

"He looks pissed," Ryan commented as he began photographing Jesus before he was placed in a body bag, ready to be transported back to the morgue.

"This is not gonna go down well, Ryan. Fernandez was our only lead on the Simpson case. Now he's dead and it looks like a gang hit, the last thing we or this neighbourhood need is another turf war."

"You think it was a Mala Noche hit?"

"He's got the stamp," Eric answered as he pointed to the tattoo on the left arm of the corpse. "If one of our lot put the word out that he was running his mouth off….this is exactly the kind of thing the Mala Noche's would do to send out a message to anyone who was thinking of talking to the cops."

"Keep your mouth shut or we'll shut it for you…..permanently," Ryan suggested as he placed his camera down, watching two assistants from the coroner's office lift the body onto a stretcher and carry it away.

"Exactly. Word's gonna get round real quick, things could get ugly."

Ryan gave his colleague a tight nod of the head, having added incentive, if it was needed, to search and process the scene as quickly as possible. There had already been a great deal of bad blood between the MDPD and local gangs in this neighbourhood of the city, the situation was a powder keg primed and ready to explode, and when it did, too many people were likely to be caught in the crossfire.

* * *

The two of them had sat quietly in the shift supervisor's office for the past few hours, both of them concentrating intensely on the reports in front of them, reading through and signing them off before placing them on an ever-growing pile in the middle of the room. The atmosphere was quiet and strained, neither of them wanting to discuss the rather large elephant in the room.

Truth be told, Calleigh had let out a sigh of relief as Horatio left the office in search of coffee, promising to bring her back a cup of the strong black liquid on his return. She could certainly do with some fortifying right now, yesterday and the events of this morning had taken more out of her than she realised.

She hoped that she had finally talked some sense into him, and had felt reassured when Horatio gave her his word that he would not let recent events with his ex-wife cause him to take a step back in the progress that he had been making up until now. Horatio was nothing if not an honourable man, once he had given his word he would not be swayed from keeping it, even under the most trying of circumstances.

Still, he had been quiet and distracted at breakfast, only stroking Moses with little in the way of the attention that he usually bestowed upon the cat. Moses had tried everything to get his master to take notice of his feline prowess, nothing seemed to work as he continued to stroke the cat as it sat in his lap, his eyes distant as he no doubt got lost in another memory from his past.

He had declined her offer of a lift in her Hummer and chose to take his own, perhaps a wise choice knowing that he had an appointment with his therapist in the afternoon. It had also afforded both of them time to think, she had not left his side for almost two days as his emotions and confusion over his past and present lives threatened to overwhelm him. She had stayed with him continuously, tending to his needs, much in the way she did when he had been so badly hurt.

The pain wasn't physical this time, his mental anguish was perhaps worse. At least with broken bones and cuts they could be reset and stitched, healing quickly with time. Wounds of the heart were always so much more difficult to repair, it could take years sometimes for people to recover from extreme emotional trauma, and sometimes not at all. Just because the injuries were not visible, it didn't mean that they did not exist.

At least he had taken her up on the offer of taking yesterday to rest and let her take care of him, something that he was usually loathe to do. She had seen the exhaustion in his eyes as he recounted the events with his ex-wife, she knew that if left to his own devices he would not have taken the time to mentally unload as he had with her. He would have chosen to internalise it, store it in his memory banks for another day when he could use it as an excuse to berate himself.

It was a sign of the trust that he placed in her, that he allowed her to watch over him as he sought to get some of the rest that he so desperately needed. It had only been a few short days ago that he had spoken of his need for space, but yesterday he had looked so weary, as if the weight of the world were on his shoulders. Words were not necessary, she could see the pain in his eyes and knew that he would not ask for her support, she wouldn't make him ask either, knowing that despite all he had been through, that he still had a desire to keep his dignity and pride intact.

She had pulled him to her wordlessly and he had accepted the peace and tranquillity that her embrace offered, knowing that she would not think less of him for it. After all the things that he had been through, he had deserved a little peace, and she was happy that she could offer him at least something that would serve to make his burden a little easier to carry.

His mask of professionalism had slipped back down this morning, experience telling her that now was the time to step back. He had made his feelings clear last week when he gently, but firmly, reminded her that he was not a helpless child that needed taking care of, but a grown man who was able to stand on his own. It was that balance that she was slowly learning, when to step up and take control and when to take a step back and let him work things through on his own. She could see the quiet desperation in him and had given him the support he desperately needed, all the while not pushing him to open up or talk unless he wanted to, understanding his wordless instructions to give him space, denying herself her instinctive desire to want to protect him.

She had wanted so badly to stop him from meeting with Laura, knowing that it would likely end in disaster for Horatio. It pained her to see what his ex-wife had done to him, how she had tried to systematically break down his defences, to break him down into the shell of the man that he had been so recently. But she had stood back and let it happen, knowing that Horatio had to do it for the sake of his own sanity and their future happiness. She had stood back and watched him falter, knowing that he wouldn't thank her for interfering, even though her only wish was to protect him. She stood back and let it happen, knowing that he would return to her and she would help him silently pick up the pieces. Both of them knowing, yet never speaking of the fact that he had come to lean on her so heavily.

The sound of the door opening made her flinch as she realised how lost in her reflective mood she had become. Her hand instinctively travelled to her chest as she covered her heart.

"Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump."

The smile on his face was the one that she found so endearing about him, that boyish little grin that lit up his eyes and made him look as if he were in the mood for being naughty. "I swear I'm putting a bell on you _and_ Moses when we get home."

He arched an eyebrow in response as he held up two Styrofoam cups and brown paper bag in his hands. "I brought you a little present from the deli across the park," he told her as he looked into the bag and lifted out a double chocolate chip muffin with extra chocolate frosting, placing it before her on the desk along with her coffee.

"Be still my beating heart," she sighed dramatically as her eyes lit up at the chocolaty treat.

It warmed his heart to hear those words, usually they were only reserved for the weapons she handled in the ballistics lab, but it was a boost to the ego to know that he had created such a feeling of pleasure inside her with his simple gift. He found himself getting lost in the sensual way she went about devouring the muffin, feeling a stirring in his loins as she licked at her lips salaciously, removing the chocolate frosting that had stuck there with such grace that he found his eyes closing at the prospect of what that tongue could do to him too.

"That was delicious, Horatio. Thank you." He came back down to earth with a thud as he watched her fold the paper case into quarters before throwing it in the wastepaper basket by the desk.

"My pleasure, Ma'am," he returned while trying to sway his mind from the lustful thoughts he was having about her. _This is not the time or the place, _he chided himself mentally.

She could see how distracted he had become once more, but she was more than glad that he had been thoughtful enough to buy her a muffin with her mid-morning coffee. His gift was a small gesture of thanks for her staunch support of him over the last few days. Horatio much preferred to be a man of actions rather than words, she took the gift as a sign of his gratitude, knowing that he would prefer not to speak of what had transpired.

Separating their professional lives from their personal was something new to both of them, but she was silently pleased that she had managed to find her groove when dealing with the stubborn man before her. So much of the understanding between them was said without words, and she was quickly learning to anticipate his need for space and freedom, which he in turn thanked her for in his own unique way.

The realisation dawned on her that perhaps too much stock was put into spoken words when it came to a relationship, when two people truly understood and loved each other, words were not always necessary. Too much talking would inevitably lead to arguments that would be enough to put a strain on any relationship. When two people truly loved each other, they would know instinctively when the time was right to give each other space and would seek to comfort their partner should things go wrong, never preaching or berating them for making the wrong choice.

Horatio had made it clear that for their relationship to work she would have to treat him as an equal and she had hoped that she'd managed to accomplish that over the past few days. He hadn't pushed her away or turned tail and run, and so she was confident that they were heading in the right direction.

He too had been making a real effort, it had taken a great deal of courage for him to admit to kissing his ex-wife, knowing that such an admission could have potentially ended their own relationship before it had ever really started. It took immense strength to admit to the flaw in his character that had almost seen him raise a hand in anger at Laura as she continued to badger him into submission. It had taken even more mettle to finally push her away and turn his back on a life that he once had with her.

Despite his need for freedom and independence, he had let his emotional barriers down with her, making concessions and placing his faith in the woman he loved. For a man so used to being emotionally distant, it was a huge step forwards, relinquishing control like that had not been an easy thing for him to do. His trust in her was also a declaration of his love, so very few people ever got to see the real Horatio underneath the image of the stoic Lieutenant, even fewer were ever witness to his true vulnerability.

His gesture with the muffin was so sweet, and so like the Horatio she had always known, the way that he looked at her with that boyish shyness that was so endearing about him, as if he were not used to displaying much in the way of affection to other people. Such emotional awkwardness was understandable when one considered the traumas that he had suffered, how he had been forced to turn his back on the ones he loved and live a life of solitude, making the people who cared about him hate him, telling himself that it was for their own good and the only way to keep them safe. For so long, he had been forced to keep such a tight lid on his emotions that he was now faced with the fact that he was unsure of how to process such alien feelings when they presented themselves once more.

Loving someone and sharing your life had not been something that Horatio had to consider for many years, the closest he came to sharing his heart with another had been with Marisol, a relationship that had ended disastrously, and for all the wrong reasons. It had served to make him even more reluctant to risk his heart with another, it had already been bruised and battered beyond recognition, along with the rest of him. Yet despite the trauma his heart had suffered, he still possessed the ability to love another, even if he wasn't fully cognizant of it himself.

It was almost impossible to forget how to love once it had happened to you, it was just something that stayed with you, despite the passing years and the increasing heartache, the damage that it received had not hardened his heart to the point where he could not love at all. Even if he wasn't sure of the emotions or whether to trust them, he was still capable of reciprocating the love that she felt for him. And he would do it in his own unique 'Horatio' way, not a man to make grand gestures of love, he would show her in ways that only she would understand, to show just how much she meant to him.

There was nothing grandiose about their relationship, they were just two adults, equals in their partnership, understanding each other and never demanding more than the other could give. Theirs was a relationship that would be built on trust and understanding, a relationship whose actions would speak far louder than any words.

They must have been staring at each other, lost in their own thoughts. A loud knock on the door disturbed them from their reverie. The imposing frame of Frank Tripp stood in the doorway as they both looked at him expectantly.

"I'm glad I caught you two together," he said as a way of greeting, placing his hands on his hips to emphasise his harried mood. "We got a situation on our hands."

"What is it, Francis?" Horatio enquired as he stood to face the detective.

"Jesus Fernandez was shot dead this morning."

"We heard," Calleigh added as she too stood up from her chair, placing the pile of reports to one side.

"Yeah, well it's just got worse. Turns out Jesus has a step-brother." The two CSIs gave him a blank look, he knew he'd have to spell it out for them. "You ever heard of an animal by the name of Cesar Donato?"

"He was convicted for the rape and murder of a young woman, we worked the case when I first came to Miami."

Frank nodded his head at Horatio, surprised that the Lieutenant remembered the case so clearly in light of his recent head injury. _Of course he would remember, this is Horatio we're talking about. Damn guy remembers every victim from every case._

"Well our friend Cesar was released last month on good behaviour, believe it or not." The look that his two colleagues shot him left him in no doubt that they were highly dubious about Cesar's ability to keep his nose clean while in jail. "My guys say the word on the street is that he knows it was us that set his little brother up and that he's pissed and looking for revenge. Cesar's got a lot of connections to the Mala Noche, I get the feeling that this is gonna turn real ugly real fast."


	78. Chapter 78

Frank stood in the doorway expectantly as the two CSIs looked at each other, sharing some kind of unspoken communication that he was not privy to. He was beginning to feel a little awkward and uncomfortable, standing there like a lemon, until Horatio's soft voice caught his attention.

"Frank, would you mind giving us a moment please?"

"Sure, I've got a call to make anyway. I'll meet you in the hallway."

The Lieutenant waited until his colleague had left the room before turning his attention back to the woman sitting across from him. "Calleigh, I'm going to take the lead on this. The situation is likely to get out of control if we don't stamp down on it immediately."

His eyes narrowed as he watched the emotions flicker across her face, he took a deep breath and prepared himself for the gentle, yet patronising words that would come. She would once again pull her temporary superiority in rank over him, she would tell him that he wasn't ready to be back out in the field, that he needed more time to come to terms with what had happened.

Time was the last thing he needed, he had to get back out there and prove to himself, and the team, that he was still capable of leading the group and running the Lab. His run-in with Lori had shaken him more than he cared to admit, she had manipulated him to get her own way and he had shocked himself by how easily he'd let her. He didn't even want to think about what might have happened after he finally came to his senses and realised what a horrific mistake it would have been to sleep with his ex-wife.

No, it was best to get his head back in the game, to immerse himself in the case and make that his top priority instead of wallowing and moping at how complicated his life had become. He'd felt as if he'd been making progress with Jeff, having the opportunity to talk to someone who was not biased in their opinions had helped him to see things with a clearer sense of perspective. He'd never really placed much faith in talking before, perhaps it was because he'd only had himself to rely on for so long that it had become the only way that he knew how to cope.

As much as he was loathe to admit it, Jeff had provided a good sounding board and had given him the ability to see things differently. He had come to realise that he'd spent far too long avoiding what was staring him right in the face, stamping down on emotions that he needed to deal with. When he spoke with Jeff, there was no hint of condescension or accusation in the other man's voice, only patience and understanding.

The more consideration he gave it, the more certain he was that it was he himself that had made the difference, Jeff could have sat and talked at him for hours, telling him what he should or shouldn't be feeling. Yet he hadn't, the therapist had sat back and listened, occasionally nudging his reluctant client in the right direction until he came to the conclusions himself.

He was now conscious of the fact that he alone had taken those steps forward, he had been the one to choose happiness for once. He had taken responsibility for his own actions, once again finding the strength to stand on his own two feet. It could have been all too easy to give in to his despair, to find himself sucked further down into the maelstrom of his turbulent emotions, and who would have blamed him?

Yet it wasn't who he was, giving in was not part of his make-up, his steely determination had been borne from years of pain and loneliness, he had simply fought too hard to get to this point only to give up now. His physical and mental strength had taken a horrendous knock recently, but he had somehow managed to weather the storm with Calleigh by his side.

His lack of sexual functioning and his actions, or lack thereof, at the warehouse last week had proved to him that he was no longer coping and that his issues were becoming more than he could deal with. He'd tried to convince everyone, including himself, that he was still the man they knew, the man that they could rely on. But last week had only gone to show just how far he had fallen from his lofty perch as the head of the Crime Lab. He wasn't the man he had thought he was, not anymore.

It was only when he had hit rock bottom that he could appreciate just how much of an uphill battle it would be to regain his confidence in a job that he had taken for granted as being like second nature to him. For years, he had never given much thought to how difficult his job was, he just kept his head down and ploughed on through, one tough case to the next, never giving much consideration to the toll it took on him.

Wasn't the first step to overcoming a problem admitting that you had one in the first place?

Well, he had swallowed his pride and admitted that he wasn't coping, albeit in a rather reluctant fashion. He had met with the therapist because he felt he had no choice, not wanting to admit to the small part of him that was tired of fighting and putting up a front for the benefit of those around him. He had expected Jeff to berate him for his foolhardiness and lecture him on talking about his feelings. Yet he hadn't, Jeff had sat and listened to him as he gradually began unburdening himself of the memories and feelings that he had kept hidden for too long.

He had taken the first few steps, albeit small ones, in the right direction. He had overcome his fears in regards to his sexual inadequacies and had found himself pleasantly surprised at the effect that his touch had on Calleigh, giving him a small sense of hope that his virility had not waned as much as he thought it had. He had taken control of a potentially explosive situation between Ryan and Eric and had managed to diffuse the tension before it had spilled over into something much more serious and ugly.

Perhaps it was naïve of him to believe that he was strong enough to deal with Lori, yet he knew he had to try in order to take another step towards moving away from his past. He had to set the demons of his time in New York to rest once and for all. He had underestimated just how wily and manipulative she could be when it came to him. She had always had a hold over him, she had the rare ability to make him seek meek and passive as he wilted against her continued onslaught of his mind and body.

He had come so close to making the biggest mistake of his life, but he'd found the strength to somehow break away from Lori, this time for good. Never before had he been able to deny her whatever she wanted, she had always had her way in the end, and he had always let her, as she dragged his name and his ego through the mud time and again.

But this had been the last time that she would play her games with him, and this time she would not win. He had come away from their meeting emotionally battered and bruised, yet somehow still standing. He had stood firm and come out on top for once, or so he hoped.

Their reunion had drained him physically and emotionally, he had found himself falling back into that pit of despair that he had worked so hard to drag himself out of only to find Calleigh's hands held out, waiting to drag him back up and over the ledge to more stable ground. God, she had been his lifeline for so long now, had she not been around he would likely have faded away into nothing. She alone gave him the strength to carry on, now she needed to show her faith in him by letting him do this.

There were no two ways about it, he needed to do this.

He soon became conscious of the fact that they had been staring at each other for the last few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Ok," she said finally.

"Ok?" he repeated, unsure if he'd heard her correctly.

"You take the lead on this, but keep me updated. I want to know the minute anything happens."

For such a controlled man, he had a hard time keeping the look of shock off of his face. He willed his professionalism to slip back into place as he cleared his throat and walked towards her, placing a hand on her arm and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You have my word, Ma'am," he told her with a small smile.

God, she loved it when he called her Ma'am, how could he make one word sound so sexy?

He gave her a genuine smile as he made his way to the door, intent on finding Frank and getting himself immersed in the case.

"Horatio?" she called as he turned around. "I just have one question before you leave."

He looked at her expectantly.

"Where's your cell phone? Ky-…er, someone rang the house yesterday trying to reach you, I checked your pants pocket but it wasn't in there."

The memory of his childish fit of temper returned to him quickly, visions of him throwing his phone into the wall so hard that it smashed to pieces flew unbidden through his mind. His cheeks flamed in embarrassment at his lack of control. "I…uh…..it's still at my house…..um….broken."

He didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes, so chose to keep his gaze to the ground instead. It took him by surprise when she wordlessly walked up to him and passed her own cell phone to him, "Take this," she said as she placed it in his hand, folding his fingers over it gently, causing him to look directly into her eyes. "Be careful."

He nodded his head and gave her another small smile, "Always, Ma'am."

She watched him leave, much like she had only a few days ago when he had set off for the tumultuous showdown with Laura. Her eyes followed his retreating form as she watched the door close, hearing Horatio talking with Frank, their voices diminishing as they headed along the corridor.

Sitting herself back behind the desk, she took a deep breath and hoped that Horatio's uncharacteristic behaviour was no more than a small wobble, an obstacle that he would quickly overcome. He had asked her to give him space and place her faith in him, she just hoped she hadn't overestimated how far he had come recently.

No, she told herself, Horatio was a strong man, certainly strong enough to deal with the current case the team were handling. He would never find his independence if she didn't let him off the leash, the time would come, sooner or later, when she would have to cut loose the ties that she had held onto for far too long. He would have to stand on his own two feet at some point, she just prayed that now was the right time to test that theory.

He closed the office door quietly as he made his way closer to Frank, stopping when he heard the gruff detective bark into his phone. "What do you mean you can't find him?...Don't give me Goddamn excuses….find him!...I want him back at the Department by the end of the day, you hear me?...No, I don't care what you have to do, drag his ass back here in cuffs if you have to…I want his head and so help me God…..if you don't find out where the hell your sorry excuse for a partner is, it'll be your head that rolls. You got it?"

He watched on in detached amusement as Frank gave one of his poor colleagues a fearful talking to, his lips curved up into a small smile as a twinge of sympathy for the person on the other end of the phone washed over him. His gaze averted for only a second by a passing lab technician, he found himself staring into the Texan's angry eyes. "Trouble, Francis?" he asked evenly, not wanting to admit that he got a small sense of satisfaction from watching his old partner go at it with someone.

"Nothing I can't handle, Horatio," the taller man replied as he shoved his phone back into his inside jacket pocket. "You leading this one then?"

"I am," the Lieutenant replied as he stood side on, his hands running distractedly over the now-familiar glasses in his hands. "Care to get me up to speed?"

Frank let out a deep sigh, placing his hands on his hips as he spoke. "Not much more to tell you than we already know. Dr Kooky-nuts has Fernandez's body down in autopsy, Eric and Ryan were processing the scene last I heard."

Horatio quirked an eyebrow at his colleague at his succinct and rather surly summary of the case so far. "Any luck tracking down our errant detective?"

"Yeah, so much for the solidarity of brotherhood. The rest of the night shift threw him straight under the bus when the shit hit the fan this morning. It was Viggo."

"Lenny?" The surprise was evident in Horatio's voice as he spoke. From what he knew of the man, he was a fine detective with a good reputation within the Department. Perhaps things had changed considerably in his months away from the daily comings and goings of the MDPD. "I thought he was a good man….trustworthy."

"Well, it appears not. I know he wasn't happy being transferred to nights, things haven't been good between him and his wife for a while now. Maybe working the graveyard shift was the final straw for him. Still doesn't excuse what he did though, he's run off and left us to deal with the fallout."

"You think his partner will find him?"

"He better….if he knows what's good for him."

They had quickly reached the front of the building, Frank held the door open for his colleague to follow him. They both stood on the steps and watched the myriad patrol cars park up and then pull away from the building. "Nice to see you back in the saddle, Horatio."

The Lieutenant winced at his colleague's words as they sounded more patronising to his ears than Frank had likely realised. He stood awkwardly, fidgeting with the ID badge on his belt as he placed his sunglasses on. Squinting his eyes, he saw a familiar figure in the distance, that of a man he had once known, many years ago. The muscled man walked further towards the steps of the building, his gait firm and purposeful.

"Hey, I want a word with you, Caine!" the voice shouted as he stomped ever nearer the steps.

He saw Frank's hand move immediately towards his firearm, he shook his head as he communicated his request for his colleague to stand down. He stood still and placed his hands on his hips as he gave his visitor a visual once-over. "Cesar, it's been too long."

"Not long enough for you perhaps," the bulky figure of Cesar Donato shot back as he stood at the bottom of the steps.

"Perhaps. I hear they let you out for good behaviour. Tell me, are you a changed man, Cesar?"

"What's it matter to you, Caine? Us poor kids, we're all the same to you, aren't we?"

"Only the ones who choose to rape and murder innocent women, yes."

"I told you I didn't do it, but you weren't gonna believe a street kid like me. Blame it on a Spanish kid from the slums, easier than trying to pin it on a white boy. Ain't that right?"

"Cesar, if I had a dollar for every criminal who told me they didn't do it, I'd be a very rich man by now," Horatio sighed dramatically.

Cesar stood tall in his tight white vest and cut-off khaki pants, looking every inch the Mala Noche gang member Horatio knew him to be. His muscled arms were covered in sleeves of tattoos, a thick gold chain hung around his neck, no doubt stolen from some poor, unsuspecting victim that he had his gang friends had mugged at gunpoint. It seemed that prison had not changed the man much, except to make him even bitterer towards the police than he already was.

Men like Cesar were common in Miami, for every good citizen, there were a dozen more criminals roaming the streets. The city had certainly been a safer place without Cesar in it, and experience told him it would not be long before the man found himself once again in a 6x10 cell, with no one to blame but himself. He gave the man before him a cursory look and was relieved to find that he hadn't been stupid enough to walk up to the Department building carrying a weapon.

"Was there something I can do for you, Cesar?" he asked finally as he gazed off into the distance.

"Yeah, I wanna know who spread the word about Jesus. That boy was a good kid and now he's dead. One your pig friends put it about that he was some kind of grass."

"Jesus was a suspect in a double homicide, maybe he wasn't the innocent boy you thought he was."

"So you're just gonna sweep it under the rug like he don't matter?"

"Not at all, we get justice for all the victims. You should know that here in Miami...we never close."

Cesar stepped forward in a deliberate act of defiance as Frank once more made a move for his gun. The Lieutenant stepped forward himself until they were only a few feet away from each other.

"I'm warning you, Caine. You better hope you find that cop before I do or I'm gonna have his head on a pike, you hear me?"

"I do, Cesar. I do. Consider this a warning too," he began as he leaned closer to the Hispanic man, his voice low and menacing. "If I find that you've harmed any of my colleagues in any way you'll be spending the rest of your time in a box much smaller than a prison cell. Do I make myself clear?"

The two men stared at each other, neither willing to give the other an inch.

"Guess we've got ourselves an impasse, haven't we?"

"It appears we do, Cesar. You take care now, I'll be seeing you." Horatio turned his back and made his way back up to the steps, smiling as Cesar called out to him.

"Maybe sooner than you think, hombre."


	79. Chapter 79

Horatio made his way down to the morgue via the elevator, feeling a renewed sense of confidence that he had faced down Cesar Donato and had not even blinked at the man's threatening tone. He knew the man better than to think he would be foolish enough to bring a gun to the Department, but he was confident that he would not freeze again like he had at the warehouse.

It felt good to be back in the saddle, as Frank had put it. No longer was he hiding in the bowels of the building like some meek child, he was taking command once more of the Lab that he had worked so tirelessly to build. He was facing his demons head-on instead of ignoring them and pretending that they weren't there.

Still, he knew that things were not right. How could Calleigh have been so forgiving of his trespasses in regards to Lori? He had willingly let himself be manipulated by his ex-wife, telling himself that he was powerless against her, that she had always managed to bend him to her will. That had been wishful thinking, a part of him knew exactly what he was doing and that his actions would end up hurting those he loved.

It didn't stop him indulging in the fanciful notion that things could return to the way they were. His life had become such a maelstrom of conflicting emotions that it had left him confused and angry at his inability to control himself. Control had always been one of his biggest strengths as he created a new life in Miami. He prided himself on the fact that he kept his temper, even in the most trying of circumstances, and had always put the interests of others before his own.

But his life had turned into such a mess, and after years of giving so selflessly, a part of him wanted to do what _he_ wanted, just for once in his life. He wanted to be freed from the constraints of responsibility, free from the thankless task of protecting everyone else. He wanted, just for a moment, to be free from everything.

He had convinced himself that losing himself in Lori would provide the perfect answer, the physical hedonism she provided when they were intimate would allow him to free himself from the nagging voices in his head. After years of pain and misery, didn't he deserve a little happiness of his own?

Experience had taught him that the happiness with Lori would be short-lived, and that he would instantly come to regret sleeping with his ex-wife. After everything Calleigh had done for him, it would have been beyond selfish to betray her in such a way, for nothing more than a few moments of physical gratification.

Calleigh had been understanding, too understanding of what had happened with Lori. Her love for him was so strong that it clouded her thinking when it came to him. There were no two ways about it, he had betrayed her by even considering sleeping with Lori. By rights, Calleigh should have hated him for what he had done, yet she hadn't.

The more consideration he gave it, the more he realised that Calleigh deserved better. He was still far from being the man she deserved, she needed more than a man who was struggling so badly to understand who he was anymore. How could he ever truly love her until he knew who he was himself?

"Ah, Lieutenant. Always such a pleasure to see you down here, rumour has it that you've been hiding away upstairs."

The jovial tone of Dr Tom Loman caused him to flinch momentarily as the words registered in his over-worked mind. The resident M.E had always been blunt in his comments to his colleagues, often causing unintended friction within the team at his tactless comments. Still, anyone who had spent time with Tom understood that it was just part of his personality, he was a fine medical examiner, but somewhat lacking in the social graces of the rest of society.

Perhaps it was why he became a medical examiner in the first place, Horatio mused, as he painted a stiff smile on his face and walked towards the autopsy table. Maybe Tom had always known that he somehow didn't fit in with the rest of society, that his quirky nature would not be easily accepted by people who did not take the time to know him. Working with the dead probably afforded the doctor the ability to speak freely without the worry of whether his words would offend them. Dead people never spoke, not in the most obvious sense anyway.

For all of his social awkwardness, Tom Loman was a fine M.E, he carried out his work efficiently and with a grace that belied his sometimes caustic nature with his colleagues. He had come to respect the man for his abilities as a medical examiner, he would certainly never be close with the man in the way he had been with Alexx, time and the loss of too many colleagues had caused him to distance himself from the people he worked with for fear of the pain that their passing would bring.

Tom Loman didn't have the soft, soothing voice of his dear friend Alexx, even when she was tearing him a new one, she did it in such a way that the words stung slightly less than they would of coming from another. She had always understood what made him tick, when to be gentle and probing, and when to be firm and forceful. Alexx had never been scared to speak her mind to him, it was one of the things he respected and admired about her the most. She'd taken him into her family when he had none of his own to speak of and had treated him like a brother, something that was completely at odds with the medical examiner who currently ran the Department's morgue.

Tom's professional and rather detached attitude was something of a breath of fresh air to him. He had long been prodded, cajoled and harassed into revealing his inner thoughts to his colleagues as they continually asked him how he was, how he was coping, how he was feeling. How was he ever supposed to know how to answer them if they wouldn't give him the time and room to figure it out for himself?

The M.E's comments had caught him unawares, yet there was something refreshing about the abrupt way the man spoke. He wasn't another of his concerned colleagues who felt they had to tiptoe around him for fear of upsetting him, he just treated him in the same way that he always would. If Tom Loman cared about his current state of mind then he didn't openly show it, and the realisation that he would not be questioned about his personal life came as huge relief. Tom wouldn't look at him with those pitying eyes, with an expression that conveyed the concern for his wellbeing. He could lose himself in his professional demeanour and not be questioned for it.

He needed the focus of the current case to keep him sane, and he found himself counting down the hours until his next session with Jeff. The idea of becoming so reliant on a therapist momentarily galled him until he realised that the walls were closing in on him once more. He needed the level-headed Jeff to listen and understand, he knew the man would not pass judgement but allow him to gain some perspective instead.

The appointment was not until the afternoon and so he would have to make do with concentrating his attention on the case instead. As far as he was concerned, the less time he spent thinking about his feelings the better.

"Lieutenant?"

Tom's deep voice shook him from his reverie. That would be something else he needed to discuss with Jeff, his daydreaming was becoming more apparent to the people around him as he lost himself in his thoughts. He needed his focus back, his head had to be in the game, people's lives depended on it.

"What have you got, Dr Loman?" he finally replied, with all the professionalism he could muster.

"I'm sure you've heard by now that my latest resident is Jesus Fernandez, the lead suspect on your double homicide. How's that case going by the way?"

It wasn't. Jesus had been their only suspect, his fingerprints had been found at the scene along with blood from an unknown male. Frank had released Jesus in the hopes that he would unwittingly lead them to his accomplice and perhaps one of the murder weapons. Most of what they'd had was circumstantial at best, certainly nothing they could build a solid case on yet. Now that their prime suspect was dead, the leads had all but dried up. The Spanish community were wary of the police at best, there would be little or no chance that anyone would come forward with new information for fear of getting the same treatment as poor, unfortunate Jesus Fernandez.

He chose to ignore the question and asked one of his own instead. "I take it that you've confirmed cause of death?"

"Yes, the rather large portion of his face and the smaller exit wound through the back of the skull were caused by some kind of handgun, killing him instantly. He'd been given a thorough working over beforehand though."

"How so?" he questioned as he placed his hands on his hips, tapping the badge on his belt lightly, watching carefully as the doctor lifted up the bruised left arm of the corpse.

"I found boot prints and several contusions that are consistent with a brutal and sustained beating. If there were more left of his face I'm sure that would also tell a similar story."

A memory of the beatings he'd been subjected to himself caught him by surprise, the terror he felt as they came for him, again and again, taunting him with what they would do to him once they'd beaten him into unconsciousness. No, he would not go back there. He couldn't.

He shook the vivid memory from his mind. "You say the wound was a through and through, any chance you found fragments from the bullet in the wound track?"

Tom shook his head as he placed the arm back down on the cold metal table gently, affording the corpse before him the grace and respect that he might not have deserved should he finally be found guilty of playing a part in the double homicide of the Simpson couple. "No such luck I'm afraid. Perhaps Ryan or Eric found something at the scene?"

"I was about to head up there shortly, Doctor. Anything else you can tell me about Mr Fernandez and how he died?"

Tom shook his head vigorously, in a way that was so natural to him but seemed slightly out of place to the reserved Lieutenant. Sometimes Tom's eagerness to perform his duties bordered on glee at being able to dismember the corpses of the dearly departed. He'd found it hard to understand the doctor's excitement at carrying out such a grim act. To him, death had always been such a sad and mournful affair, he'd never gotten used to seeing death and destruction since he'd become a cop so many years ago. Time and experience had lessened the shock or disgust he felt at seeing the maimed and bloody corpses of innocent victims, yet there were still times when the senselessness and brutality of murder would catch him off-guard and take him by surprise. How could one person be capable of killing another?

_Like you don't know what that feels like,_ the voice in his head taunted him. He'd killed people before, too many people for his liking. But he'd been justified in ending the lives of those people. Hadn't he?

He'd seen too much death and destruction in his life, one by one, the deaths had chipped away at what little had been left of the good man inside him. He'd seen too many deaths, been responsible for too many of them, their deaths were on his conscience. It was a burden that he carried with him daily, one that was becoming too heavy to bear anymore. Was that why he was so desperate to give into those lustful feelings with Lori, would it ever really take him back to a time when things were that much simpler?

The things that he had been made to do, both back in New York and here in Miami, they were things that he could never take back, he could never go back and right those wrongs, no matter how hard he tried. But God, he was so tired of trying, so tired of everything. He needed time, space to get away from everything until he could sort out the mess that his mind had become. The concerned looks and pitying stares from the people around him were becoming too much, they were clinging on to him too tightly. They needed to let him go, he needed room to breathe before he suffocated and lost himself completely.

The sound of the elevator dinging and the doors opening caused both men to look towards the other end of the room where Ryan stood, he fidgeted almost awkwardly as he found his superior looking at him expectantly. He ignored Horatio's questioning stare and spoke directly to Tom instead. "I got your message. You have the clothes from Fernandez?"

"Indeed I do, Ryan. I haven't done more than a cursory inspection of them, but they're here bagged and tagged and ready to go." He held the bag out in front of his body proudly as Ryan shuffled over and took it from him. He then turned his attention to Horatio, "Was there anything else I could help you with, Lieutenant?" he asked brightly.

Horatio shook his head as he adjusted his gun holster and tapped on his badge again. "Keep me informed of any developments, Doctor Loman."

Tom gave him a firm nod of the head before returning to the autopsy, humming a jaunty tune as he did so.

Sometimes, being a shorter man had its disadvantages. Ryan picked up his pace to match the longer strides of his superior in order to catch up with him before he entered the elevator. They stood side by side in awkward silence as the doors closed and the elevator began its ascent to the fourth floor.

"Something I can do for you, Mr Wolfe?" Horatio asked softly, picking up on the unease of his younger colleague. Ryan Wolfe was a fine CSI, but his poker face needed a great deal of work. It was all too easy to know when Ryan was feeling nervous, he often fidgeted continuously and avoided eye contact with anyone, much like himself, he mused.

Ryan was easy to read, his body language often giving him away, certainly to an experienced police officer like Horatio. His nervousness often played to his advantage in the fact that people, especially criminals, would underestimate the steely resolve of the young CSI. Still, the boy was prone to making poor choices throughout his career. How many times had Ryan made the same mistake over and over again?

To terminate his employment at the Crime Lab had not been an easy task, he could barely look at Ryan as he uttered those words, the finality of the situation causing a lancing pain in his heart as he watched the young man's face fall. In all of his time as a police officer and head of the Crime Lab, he had never felt as much of a heel as he had then, holding out his hand expectantly for Ryan's gun and badge.

But the man had made his own choices, he'd made mistakes repeatedly, even though he knew that he was playing with fire when he did so. And so poor Ryan's fingers had got burnt, and badly so. His heart ached to not be able to take the young man under his wing as he began to replay over and over in his mind what he could have done differently to save Ryan from his fate.

_You could have paid him more attention, _the small voice in his head goaded him. He'd deliberately kept Ryan at a distance, he couldn't go through the heartache of losing another one of his team. Even now, he still had several flashbacks to that fateful day when Tim Speedle was shot and killed in the line of duty. He would never forget the sights and sounds of that day for as long as he lived, the coppery smell of blood as it wafted into his nostrils made his stomach clench involuntarily, even as he thought about it now.

He had been far too lenient with Speed, treating the man more like a friend than a subordinate. There was just so much to like about the monosyllabic and laid-back young man, he couldn't help but grow closer to his young protégé, after years of loneliness, it had felt good to have people around him that almost seemed like family. Perhaps it was the succinct way that Tim spoke that drew him closer, Speed was a not a man for histrionics, he just got on with the job at hand, only really speaking when he needed to.

There was an unspoken understanding between the two of them, neither were comfortable taking about their feelings or that loquacious when it came to getting the job done, more could be conveyed in a look or a nod of the head than could be said in words. There was solitude in silence, something both men seemed to have in common.

But Tim was laid-back, too laid back for his own good, and it had cost him his life. He had warned his younger colleague a number of times that his negligence when it came to cleaning his firearm would one day cost him dear, but not even he knew just how high a price Tim would be forced to pay.

The shot that Tim took had been fatal, he could see as much just by looking at the entry wound, directly over the heart. At least his passing had been swift and relatively painless. But there had been nothing that he could do, he was helpless to stop nature, and fate, from running its course. He had held onto Tim as he bled out, feeling his precious blood soak into his own clothes, a splash of blood marring his own face as the poor man coughed and choked out his last breath.

There had been nothing that he could have done that day, yet the truth was that he could have done so much more to prevent the whole sorry episode from ever happening in the first place. If he had just been more professional, tougher on his young charge, then his gun would never have jammed and he would still be alive today. Tim's death had been a bitter pill to swallow, but his passing had taught him a valuable lesson: to keep his subordinates at arm's length.

When young Ryan Wolfe had transferred to the team from Patrol he had made a concerted effort to keep the man at a distance, always making sure that the lines between familiarity and professionalism did not become blurred. He rarely, if ever, called the young man by his first name in an effort to keep some distance between them. He would teach his young charge in the same way that he had the other members of his team, but he would not allow himself to fall into the same trap again.

There had been times when he had fought the urge to take Ryan under his wing and bring him into the inner circle that he had allowed so few people to enter. Yet he couldn't, each time he even considered the thought of allowing Ryan to know the real man beneath the image, visions of Tim lying in a pool of his own blood, dying, came to mind. He wouldn't, no, he couldn't allow Ryan to find a way into his heart. He couldn't lose another person he loved, the constant and repeated loss of those around him had dragged him down too far now. To lose another would be the killer blow, his resistance to yet another sucker punch would desert him, and this time he knew he would hit the mat hard. So hard that he would not be able to recover and get back up.

The silence yawned between the two of them. The only sound being the chiming of the elevator as it ascended through the floors. For Ryan, he knew it was now or never. "H, I need to ask you for a favour," the younger man begun.

Horatio kept his gaze ahead, keeping his eyes firmly on the elevators control panel, watching the numbers flick up as they passed each floor. "You have my attention, Mr Wolfe."

Ryan took a deep breath and steeled himself, unsure of the response he would receive.

* * *

"Delko? Wolfe?"

Eric's ears pricked up as he heard the booming voice and heavy footfalls of Frank Tripp as he trudged his way through the Crime Lab. "Hey, Frank. Where's the fire?" he asked with a smile as he poked his head out from the Trace room.

"Where's Wolfe?"

He frowned at Frank's terse response. The tall Texan wasn't a man for idle chit-chat at the best of times, but the man was downright steaming as he placed his hands on his hips and let out a growl.

"What's up?" he asked, bracing himself for the answer. Frank Tripp was a straight as they came, certainly not a man given into hyperbole. Whatever had gotten under the detective's skin, it was likely something big.

Frank was about to open his mouth when both men turned their attention to the elevator as the doors opened with a cheery 'ding' belying the tense mood in the corridor. "Horatio," he grumbled as he stalked his way over to the Lieutenant, "It's a good job I found you," he said as he ran a hand over his head.

"Problems, Francis?" Horatio responded as he regarded his colleague.

"Well, I was gonna tell the monkeys, good thing I found the organ grinder instead."

The two CSIs looked affronted at the remark but knew better than to interrupt Frank when he was in full flow. Horatio arched an eyebrow at Frank before looking pointedly at Eric and Ryan.

At least the detective had the good grace to look slightly apologetic as he gave a tight smile and nod of the head to the two young men. "No offence, fellas."

"None taken," Eric replied haughtily as he made his way out to join the rest of them in the corridor.

"We've got a problem, Horatio. A big problem."


	80. Chapter 80

"Talk to me, Francis." There was more than a hint of urgency in Horatio's voice as he spoke.

"Patrol have just called in a DB. Looks like it's one of the low-lives that Fernandez had been seen hanging around with when we put a tail on him."

"Are you sure?"

Frank turned to look at Eric as he answered. "As sure as my old grandma wore cotton panties, Delko."

"This is getting out of control, you know that right?" Ryan looked expectantly at Horatio, waiting for the man's impending instructions.

"Ok, gentlemen," the Lieutenant began as he pulled his sunglasses out of his shirt and began fiddling with them. The physical motion of turning the object over in his hands allowed him a small sense of calm in the fraught atmosphere. He needed to feel the metal and glass in his hands, using the familiarity of that touch to focus his mind. The situation with Cesar Donato was escalating, and fast. "Eric, I want you to take Mr Wolfe and process the scene. Frank and I will join you there shortly."

"Will do, boss," Eric replied as he gave Horatio a nod of the head, still eager to win brownie points with his superior after his recent chastisement. The voice of his brother in law made him stop briefly.

"Be careful, gentlemen. This is turning out to be an explosive situation, keep your wits about you."

He watched their retreating forms as his two colleagues made their way to the parking lot. Cesar had obviously been as good as his word and had already decided to take affirmative action. It wasn't as if Fernandez's body was even that cold yet, Cesar hadn't given them enough time to even start a formal investigation before taking justice into his own hands.

Of course, there was no cast-iron proof that the recently-released gang member had anything to do with the new corpse that they had been saddled with, the timing however, spoke volumes. Horatio Caine had been a police officer long enough to know that there was rarely any such thing as coincidence, especially in his line of work. Cesar had warned him that he would seek justice for his step-brother, he just wasn't expecting him to go about it so expediently.

_Another piece of scum off the streets though. _He immediately admonished himself for such a thought. A murder victim was a victim just like any other, it was not for to him to play judge, jury and executioner. Jesus and his partner may have been criminals, but they had also been murdered, they were owed justice just as much as the next man.

But did he really believe that anymore? The years and the needless deaths that he had witnessed had worn him down and chipped away at his empathy for the victims. _Not all victims, _he told himself, _just the ones who don't deserve it. _But who on earth was he to decide who was worth fighting for and who wasn't?

_Jesus and his partner had murdered two people in cold blood. Do they really deserve the same treatment as the innocent couple that they killed?_ It shocked him to find that he was having a hard time caring about the two dead gang members, and that he was more concerned about nipping the situation with Cesar in the bud before it spun too wildly out of control.

He shook the thoughts from his head as he fished in his pocket for his keys. "Take a ride with me, Frank?"

His colleague gave him a stiff smile in response. "Sure, why not?"

The silence yawned between the two men, and it suddenly reminded Frank of the days when he and Horatio had first been partnered to work together. Straight away, he'd taken a dislike to the odd and dishevelled detective that had transferred from New York under suspicious circumstances. He'd always prided himself on being a good judge of character, but there was just something about the evasive redhead that didn't add up.

His mind cast back to the first day that they had laid eyes on each other, a skinny, bearded hobo sat in the Department reception area, staring vacantly out of the large glass-panelled windows of the building. He'd taken him for some kind of vagrant at first, the shock at discovering that the man was to be his new partner was palpable as he looked the scruffy and worn-looking figure disdainfully.

Straight away he'd had his suspicions about his new partner, something that was confirmed when the very same man returned to the squad room the next day, shaved and coiffed to within an inch of his life and dressed in the finest Italian tailoring. He said nothing at first, but his reticence to speak did not last long as he asked his new partner just what the hell was going on.

The man's answers had done nothing to sway him from the idea that he was either working for the dreaded rat squad or was on the take, he just hadn't decided which yet. His partner's distracted nature in those first few weeks had also aroused his suspicions as to just what the other man was up to. His distrust soon turned to contempt as their relationship soured to the point that the two men were barely speaking, their relationship had devolved into games of petty one-upmanship as they worked on cases together, yet separately.

If he'd only known then what he did now, he would never have treated Horatio in such a cold and dismissive way. The poor man had been cast adrift from everything he had ever known and dumped in a new city with a hostile new partner. He'd never made it easy for Horatio in those first few weeks, and it wasn't until his partner had saved him from a bullet that he realised that perhaps the man was trustworthy after all.

There had been no grand gestures of sorrow or forgiveness on either man's part, both of them knowing that the other was not the type of man who would sit down and readily talk about their feelings. The pair of them had come to the understanding that they would put past grievances behind them and start again.

Horatio had opened up to him a little more after that, he found the New Yorker a good man, and a fine detective, as their professional relationship began to blossom into a genuine friendship built on respect and acceptance of each other and their ways. Still, Horatio had never been the type of man who would talk too much about his private life, and to be honest, he preferred it that way. No, the two men were much more comfortable talking about work or college basketball scores than they were about their feelings.

Many years ago, and after a particularly tough case, it had been Horatio who had tracked him down to the bar where he had planned to drown his sorrows. The man said nothing as he perched on the stool next to him and ordered a coffee. He had expected some kind of reproachful comment, or a lecture from the good Lieutenant, but found none forthcoming, the man just sat on his stool sipping his coffee, making sure that his colleague knew that he had a friend beside him and someone to lean on should he need it.

Those kind of wordless actions defined the relationship between the two men, they hated talking about their feelings, yet both of them knew the depths of the emotions that they held for one another. They were each other's silent pillar of support in a world that had become so obsessed with communication and the need to analyse one's feelings. There would be no poking or prodding, just a wordless offer of assistance in a time of need, no pushing to open up and talk about things. Just acceptance.

Yet for all of his internal musings, Frank couldn't shake the feeling that his colleague was carrying a considerable load on his shoulders at this time. He kept an eye on the quiet man as they drove to the crime scene, casting furtive glances as he watched Horatio take a left turn then pull up sharply at the taped-off area that was currently surrounded by uniformed officers.

"Horatio?" he asked as he saw his colleague take off his seatbelt and reach for the door handle, shooting him a quizzical look as he paused. "You ok, man?"

He felt awkward for even asking, his cheeks flamed as he realised that he had broken their unspoken rule. Now he was no better than the rest of them, shooting pitying glances at the poor man as he struggled to reassert himself, and his authority, in the Lab.

He had sworn that when Horatio returned, that he would treat him in the same way as he had before the shit had hit the fan in such a major way. He would bite down on his genuine concern for his colleague's safety, there were already enough people trying to coddle him as it was, and as much as he loved his daughters, Frank Tripp was no coddler. Especially when it came to men.

He winced as Horatio's eyes darkened for a moment, the sunglasses momentarily dropping further down the man's nose as he looked across the Hummer to his passenger. "Never better," was the stiff response as the glasses were pushed back up to cover those piercing blue eyes, but not before a brief look of frustration marred the Lieutenant's face.

Realising that he'd put his foot in it, Frank trudged behind in the wake of Horatio's footsteps as he watched his colleague march purposefully across to where the dead body lay, bending slightly as he made his way under the crime scene tape.

"What have we got, gentlemen?"

The first face to greet him was that of the perky M.E, Tom Loman. "Ah, Horatio. Twice in one day, aren't we lucky?"

Horatio frowned in response, "Not so lucky for that poor man," he stated as he pointed at the bloodied and beaten figure beneath Tom's hands. "Any ID on the body?" he asked as he fiddled with the arms of his sunglasses, needing them in his hands to focus at the job at hand and not his wayward thoughts.

Ryan held up a clear plastic bag, inside was a blood-smeared open wallet, the driver's license clearly visible. "Hector Lorenzo, 24. Lives a couple of blocks away from Jesus Fernandez."

"His description matches the surveillance images?"

"Yup," Ryan answered as he placed the clear plastic bag in his kit and stood to his full, if inconsequential height. "DNA tests should confirm whether he's the second suspect we're looking for in the Simpson case. It's looking likely though."

"Don't assume, Mr Wolfe," Horatio chided, his tone soft, his intentions clear. "The Lab has been under far too much scrutiny lately. I want you to make absolutely sure that we have Mr and Mrs Simpson's killers. This case needs to be watertight, understood?"

Ryan had almost been tempted to make an affronted remark about that, he managed to stop himself before his mouth once more got him into trouble. He was well aware at just how much pressure the Lieutenant had been under since his return to the Lab, all eyes were constantly on him, watching and waiting for him to make some kind of mistake, trying to find a reason why the seasoned police officer was no longer fit to run the Lab that he had worked so tirelessly to build.

Horatio was under pressure, they all were. IAB had been sniffing around since his return last week, asking difficult questions and casting doubt as to the professional repute of the facility. This also happened to be the first case that Horatio had taken charge of since he'd been back after spending a large portion of last week hiding away somewhere inside the Lab. Everyone was watching, of that he had no doubt. Horatio must have been under a huge amount of pressure, he thought, as he watched his superior tap on his badge absent-mindedly, his thoughts obviously somewhere else.

That smoky voice brought them all to attention as Horatio spoke in a commanding tone. "Dr Loman, I want you to take the body back to the morgue and complete an autopsy ASAP, please." The doctor nodded as he pulled the sharp metal thermometer out of the abdomen of the corpse, making a note of the liver temperature before placing the instrument back in his case.

Next, Horatio turned his attention to Ryan and Eric, the latter had kept suspiciously quiet since his arrival a few short minutes ago. "Gentlemen, I want you to process this scene thoroughly. Collect every piece of trace you can find, no matter how small. Don't assume that Cesar Donato is our man, let the evidence guide you."

Finally, he turned to Frank, motioning for the detective to follow him as he moved a few paces away from his colleagues. "Frank, I have to be somewhere shortly. I want you to knock on doors, see what you can find out."

The Texan gave him a sour look, "Take a look at this neighbourhood, Horatio. You think anyone's gonna be brave enough to talk?" He shook his head as he watched the heavily-tattooed young men lounging around on their front porches, watching the scene unfold carefully.

Horatio smiled subtly. "I've heard that you can be very persuasive, Francis. Why don't you rattle a few cages and see what falls out?"

"And what are you going to do?"

Frank didn't miss the small frown that crossed Horatio's face, it faded not long after it appeared. "I have some personal business to attend to," was the succinct reply, signalling that he would not discuss it further. "Put a BOLO out on Cesar. I want him, Frank."

He watched Horatio stride purposefully back towards the Hummer, pull himself up on the running board and into the vehicle, his eyes didn't miss the tired rise and fall of the Lieutenant's shoulders as he shook his head slightly before starting the engine and pulling away.

Perhaps he should have pressed Horatio harder about what was bothering him, it would be unlikely that the man would answer him truthfully, but it would ease his own conscience to know that he had at least attempted to find out what was eating at him before it consumed him alive. He shook the thought from his mind, had Horatio learned nothing from his horrific experience? Keeping the truth from people was how he'd managed to get in this mess in the first place.

Damn that man though, Horatio was the textbook definition of enigmatic. There was just something about the man that screamed mystery and illusion. On the surface, Horatio appeared to be a titular hero, standing tall as chaos threatened to consume the city. He was the man that everyone else would look to as things fell apart around them, exuding a quiet confidence and air of authority as he took the given situation in hand and calmed the fraught nerves of others. Horatio was a man who always appeared in control, an island of tranquillity in a sea of chaos.

People saw him as stoic, steadfast, reliable. A man seemingly impervious to physical or emotional harm. No matter what was thrown at him, he would pick himself up, dust himself down and carry on regardless, paying little attention to the toll it took on him personally. His steely gaze cast fear into the hearts of even the most hardened of criminals as he proved, time and again, that justice would prevail.

Yet there was so much more to the man than met the eye, behind the well-dressed image was a man, just as fallible as the rest of humanity, with a heart that bled and broke just like any other. The trouble was that Horatio had spent so long cultivating the image that he had forgotten the man beneath. His first consideration had always been for the welfare and wellbeing of others, his needs were secondary, if they were even considered at all.

Horatio was a man of many layers, only a precious few ever got to peel away the first few. He was the ultimate illusionist, only allowing others what he wanted them to see, never giving too much away to anyone. There was no doubting that Horatio was a fine friend to him, the trouble was that Horatio refused to let him see much further than beneath the surface, preferring to remain elusive, that same mysterious, enigmatic man.

The only time he had ever really seen a deeper, more unguarded Horatio had been at the hospital in the days and weeks after he had been rescued at sea. It was only when the physical strength of the man had been stripped away that he could see just how much of a front the stoic Lieutenant had put on for the sake of his colleagues. His injuries, and the vast amounts of medication he was being administered, had all but sapped him of any kind of strength. His defences were down, the very human and very vulnerable Horatio was clearly on show.

He felt bad for admitting to himself that the sight of Horatio so out of control emotionally had shook him so badly. He'd taken for granted all the times that Horatio had been the voice of reason and the calming influence on the team. As he lay helpless in hospital, it was becoming apparent that the wheels were quickly coming off as the team veered from one chaotic situation to the next. Had he really underestimated just how much they all needed a fit and focused Horatio?

He had hated himself for thinking it, and was loathe to say it out loud, Horatio might have been physically fit enough to return to work, but there was something that niggled at him about the Lieutenant's emotional state. The first few days of his return had been fraught and uncomfortable, as the team attempted to adjust to having Horatio back in their ranks, their concern for his wellbeing and safety had been palpable from the start. It was clear to see that the man himself was struggling to reintegrate back into the team dynamic too, as his colleagues veered from one extreme to the other in their efforts to make him feel welcome again.

The behaviour and actions of his friend and colleague had been erratic at best these last few days, it was clear that something was still not right with the man. At times he was the Horatio of old, taking charge and leading from the front. At others, he was evasive and quiet, distracted even, as his gaze and mind wandered from one thought to the next. Horatio's slightly schizophrenic nature was at odds with the image of the man that Frank had come to know and rely on so heavily. Any fool could see that Horatio was trying to convince himself, and everyone else, that he was the man they once knew, yet the more he considered the idea, the less sure he became that the statement was true.

The man's head seemed in the game today though, he'd dealt with Cesar Donato like the Horatio of old, staring down the heavily-tattooed thug and not blinking an eye. It also gave him heart that Horatio had taken command of the cases of both Jesus Fernandez and his suspected partner in crime, Hector Lorenzo. But where was the man going now, and why wouldn't he tell anyone? What were they supposed to do if there was a break in the case, would the man even answer his Goddamn cell phone if he rang him?

He shook his head. Moments later, he caught Eric look at him with a sly grin on his face. "What you looking at, Delko?" he barked as he stood with his hands on his hips, trying, and failing, to give a pale imitation of the man who'd just upped and left the scene. "Haven't you got some fluff to pick up with your tweezers or something?"


	81. Chapter 81

He drove away in the Hummer, his mind elsewhere as he pulled out back on to the main road and towards Jeff's office. The last few days had been something of a nightmare, his meeting with Lori had been nothing short of a disaster as he came dangerously close to losing the one good thing he still had left in his life.

If he thought that a handful of sessions with a therapist would fix him, he was sorely mistaken. Things were still in so much of a muddle, to the point that he was no longer sure who he was himself. He had tried so hard to be the Horatio that his team and friends needed, yet it was becoming ever clearer to him now that he wasn't.

He'd wanted so badly to give in to his desires with Lori, for one moment, to be able to forget the world around him and do something for himself. Thank God he'd stopped himself in time though, he had almost committed the biggest mistake of his life. Lori had proven time and again that she would be no more than a fair-weathered lover, leaving him alone when he needed her the most, tiring of his emotional needs.

Calleigh had stuck by him through everything. He'd been vile to her at times as he struggled with his physical and emotional limitations. Yet no matter how he'd treated her or how harshly he'd spoken to her, she had remained by his side throughout.

Why then, was he so tempted to give in to his lustful feelings for his ex-wife? He had known that what he was doing was wrong, yet a part of him wanted to do it anyway, consequences be damned. But that wasn't who he was, or was it?

The truth was that he just didn't know anymore. Things had become so confused, his past and present mixing together and coalescing, changing him into someone he barely recognised anymore, aware that his moods were changing as easily as the strong autumn winds.

Calleigh deserved better from him, even when he admitted his unfaithfulness, she had refused to believe that any of it was his fault. That was a naïve notion in the least, and he knew it. He wasn't powerless against Lori, even though he tried to convince himself that he was at the time. He knew what he was doing was wrong, and he wanted to do it anyway. It didn't matter that Calleigh accepted his indiscretion, there were no two ways about it, he had betrayed her.

He might have pulled away from Lori before they had become truly intimate, but the damage had already been done. He felt no more than lust for his ex-wife, and in his heart he knew that he loved Calleigh, body and soul.

But he was the problem. He was broken, fractured, a casualty of his past and present. How could he ever truly give himself to Calleigh when he didn't even understand who he was anymore? He needed time and space to work things through, time away from his well-meaning friends as they pushed and prodded him to reveal his deepest feelings. The trouble was that he had spent so long denying the fact that he had any feelings, and he was now unable to comprehend the myriad of emotions that were hitting him from all sides.

No, Calleigh deserved better than half a man. She deserved someone that was whole, complete. He wanted so badly to be that man for her, but to do that he would need distance. Wouldn't he?

He glanced in the rear-view mirror distractedly, his mind churning with the alien emotions that he was struggling to assimilate into something he could understand. There was something familiar about the red SUV behind him, though he paid the vehicle little attention as he pulled into the parking lot where Jeff's office was situated, killing the engine and resting his head on the steering wheel, hoping for a few moment's peace before he would once more be cajoled into talking about his feelings.

* * *

The paperwork that came with being the head of the Crime Lab would not be something that she would particularly miss when Horatio finally resumed command of the team. For every report or file she signed off on, another dozen were dumped on her desk. How the hell did he ever keep up with this side of the job while still spending so much time in the field?

She was hopeful that Horatio would soon return to his rightful position as shift supervisor, things were slowly coming together for him, or so she thought. She'd been wary of allowing him to take the lead on the Fernandez murder, yet his words of a few nights ago lay heavy on her mind.

The time for mothering him was over, he needed to gain that sense of independence that was so important to him, how would he ever do that if she never let him out of her sight? He knew his job back to front, of that there was no doubt, yet there was a small voice in the back of her mind that told her that not all was as it should be with the man she loved. His moods and behaviour lately had been unpredictable and erratic at best, was it a mistake letting him take control of such a high-profile case?

There would be time for post-mortems and recriminations later, she'd made the decision to let her broken little bird fly the nest, all she could do now was stand back and hope that she'd made the right decision.

She had spent so much time staring down at the desk that her neck and shoulders were starting to complain at the rough treatment they were being subjected to. Rolling her shoulders and tilting her head from side to side provided her with little relief, perhaps an injection of caffeine would help, she decided, as she pulled herself up from the desk and left the office.

The break room was quiet for once, she was glad of the peace and quiet and the absence of the strange stares that people had been giving her recently. Rumours of her relationship with Horatio had spread like wildfire since their meeting with the Chief, and even though the man in charge of the Department had given them his blessing, she still didn't want her private life being the subject of office tittle-tattle. She'd had enough of that to last a lifetime, especially when it came to her relationship with work colleagues.

John Hagen had been her first high-profile dalliance with a work colleague, a relationship that had ended in the most horrific of ways. The troubled detective had killed himself in front of her, shooting himself in the head and leaving her with the gruesome image of his lifeless body forever imprinted on her mind.

She'd fallen hard for Jake Berkley too, yet his fitful ways and erratic behaviour began to grate on her after a while. But that was the nature of his job as an undercover officer, his work often took him away for weeks or months at a time, forcing him to do things that he might not have otherwise wanted to. But Jake saw his work as little more than a game, a game where his life was the highest of stakes. He seemed to get off on the thrill of impending danger, risking himself time and again to once more get that high, that rush of adrenaline that proved to him that he was still alive.

She had tried so hard to love him, yet she could never accept the way he so needlessly risked himself, she could no longer bear to lose another person she loved. When she had called time on their relationship he had seemed shocked and disappointed, yet it didn't take him long to get over it, as he once more slunk back into the shadows and the cat and mouse lifestyle that he so adored.

From one emotionally immature man to another, she found herself in a relationship with Eric. Although it was true that he had grown considerably since she had first met him, there was still something about him that screamed at her that he was not ready to settle down and give her the life that she had yearned for so long. Eric's shooting, and subsequent recovery, had caused him to re-evaluate just what it was that he wanted from life, and he had convinced himself that what he wanted was Calleigh.

They had always been attracted to each other, of that there was no doubt, but the flames of passion would only last for so long before they would die down to nothing but embers. Although they had both tried, neither of them had it in them to put the effort into keeping their love alive. They had come to the joint decision that perhaps they would be better off as friends.

She told herself that she should have learned her lesson by now, yet here she was embarking on another relationship with another work colleague, this time, Horatio. There had always been something between them since they had first met, they had denied themselves the chance to explore their feelings until now, and she told herself that, unlike all those other workplace romances, that this one would be different.

The hot coffee felt good as it slid down her throat and into her stomach, she closed her eyes and revelled in the momentary bliss that it provided, enjoying the solitude of the moment. It was not to last for long though, she heard a distinctly female voice shouting in the hallway outside. Fearing the worst, she placed her right hand on her gun holster and opened the door to the break room quietly, not sure of what she would find on the other side.

"I don't care where you think he is. Get him here now!"

The voice was strong, harsh even, as the woman raised her voice, the New York twang in her accent noticeable as she stood with her hands on her hips, facing down a harried-looking Paula on Reception.

"As I said, Miss, Lieutenant Caine is currently out in the field, he's not available at this time," the receptionist stuttered as she tried, and failed, to regain her composure.

"Well then make him available….and don't call me Miss!"

Poor Paula was being eaten alive by the fearsome woman, she recognised that hair and that voice from a few days previously. Now was the time to intervene, she hadn't gone looking for trouble, it had come looking for her. Horatio would just have to accept it that this was one fight that she wasn't going to back down from. This woman had come to her turf, making moves on her man, and she was not going to stand for it any longer. This woman had brought the fight to her, and now she was going to get what she deserved.

She stepped out into the hallway, striding purposefully as she crept up on the woman who was still intent on tearing a strip off of poor Paula.

She cleared her throat loudly as she stood tall behind the woman she barely knew yet knew she hated. "Is there a problem here?" she asked as she planted the most sincere smile on her face that she could manage. The temptation to smack the bitch in front of her into next week was almost more than she could bear.

"You," the woman began, her face marred by an ugly sneer.

"Yes, me," she replied evenly, "Why don't we take this into my office?"

* * *

He eventually mustered the energy to drag himself wearily from the Hummer, making his way slowly to Jeff's office in the high-rise building. As he climbed the stairs, he felt the crushing inevitability of what the therapist would tell him in regards to his recent behaviour. He already knew the truth, he just didn't want the other man to verbalise it for him. There was a sense of finality as he walked slowly along the hallways until he found himself standing outside Jeff's office suite.

This was the big one, the session that would finally confirm what he had been trying to run from all along. He spent countless minutes standing outside the glass frosted doors, trying to summon up the courage to face the man that would put his worst fears into words for him.

_Pull yourself together! _he chided himself as he took a deep breath and opened the door, plastering a smile on his face for the sake of the therapist's kindly young receptionist, Sally.

The expression soon faltered, his eyes fell upon her tear-stained face as she looked up at him momentarily before holding her head in her hands once more. Tucking his sunglasses into the top of his shirt, he made his way quickly over to her, walking around the raised oak desk and crouching in front of her. "Sally?" he asked gently as he tried to make eye contact with her.

She looked up at him briefly, before returning her gaze to the floor. "Sorry, Mr Caine. Please just give me a moment…..I'll be alright," she sniffed as she attempted to wipe the tears from her face, mascara had run down her cheeks in two sad rivulets, a clear testament to how upset she seemed.

He pulled a white cotton handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her, folding one of her hands over the other to ensure she took it. "You don't look ok, Sally," he said gently, momentarily forgetting his own problems and concerning himself with hers. "Has someone upset you?"

She worried at the cotton material in her hands, fiddling with the handkerchief as she took a deep breath to compose herself. She was setting an extremely bad example to the emotionally needy client's that required the services of her boss. Weeping like a small child was hardly the best advert for his capabilities as a psychologist.

"I'm ok, honestly," she replied after taking a few hiccupping breaths, forcing the tears that remained to stay put in her eyes. She would not cry in front of this man, he had enough to deal with already without her burdening him with her problems.

"Does Dr Pearce know that you're this upset?"

His words were so gentle, his voice felt like a calming influence on her as he knelt before her, giving her that concerned look that made her feel just a little bit safer. She hardly knew him, yet she knew that he was a good man, empathy and understanding rolled off of him in waves as he looked at her with those deep blue eyes. Those eyes spoke volumes to the man that owned them, his was a face that bore the physical reminders of the pain and suffering that he had endured, his eyes held a pain not unlike her own.

But she would not burden this good man with her problems, his load was already too heavy and he was already struggling to bear that weight as it was. _Get it together! _she screamed at herself as she swallowed back the last of her misery. "Please don't say anything to Dr Pearce…..I'm fine, honestly." She gave him a watery smile and rolled her office chair back a foot or so, placing some physical distance between her and the man that she felt drawn to. He was so like Jeff, in the fact that she knew she felt safe with him…accepted.

He frowned at her warily. She certainly didn't seem ok, her red-rimmed eyes belied the strong image she was trying to convey as she busied herself with adjusting her makeup, trying to hide from the world the pain that she was feeling. Still, he couldn't force his will upon her. _Like you did with Calleigh?_ the negative voice in his head taunted him.

He slowly pulled himself to his feet, his knees protesting slightly at the movement as he smoothed his pants back down and returned to the other side of the desk, resigned to the fact that Sally would not divulge whatever it was that was upsetting her so. It pained him not to be able to help her, whatever it was, surely he could help?

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small white card that was in pristine condition and handed it to her. "If someone is upsetting you…..I might be able to do something about it, Sally," he told her in the most soothing tone he could muster. "If someone's threatening you….making you feel uncomfortable….just give me a call. I'll be straight there, ok?"

"Thank you, Mr Caine. It's not necessary, honestly," she responded as she tried to hand the card back to him.

He shook his head, "Keep it, Sally. You might need it one day." He smiled at her, trying to reassure her that she had at least one person on her side. Something about this young woman was vulnerable, he found it bringing out the protective instinct in him. Someone or something was upsetting her, and it ate at him that she would not tell him why. One look at her face told him that she was a good person, there was juts something inside that indicated that she was genuine.

She placed the card in her purse after a few moments, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she became aware of what a state she must have looked when the redheaded police officer entered her reception a few moments before. "I'm sorry for my unprofessionalism, Mr Caine," she said quietly as she avoided making eye contact with him.

"Nonsense. And it's Horatio, remember?"

She couldn't help matching his small smile with one of her own as she nodded her thanks to him as he sat down in one of the waiting room's chairs. Should anybody walk in at that moment, they would not have known what had just transpired a few moments before. The tall stranger seemed to understand that she didn't want to be made a fuss of, she had regained her composure and he was happy to say no more about it. Certainly not to Jeff anyway.

Yet she knew he was a seasoned police officer and would not be fooled by her weak protestations that everything was ok. He kept shooting her those small furtive glances as he sat across from her, his elbows resting on his knees as he clasped his hands tightly together. He could help her, he was a law enforcement officer after all. No, she would not burden him with her problems, he already had too many of his own. _Maybe later, _she told herself as she once again found his soft blue eyes looking at her in puzzlement, as if he were trying to figure out by body language alone what it was that was bothering her.

She cleared her throat and began to fiddle with items on her desk, trying to find even the most menial of tasks to distract her from the man across the room. Never had she been as glad to hear her boss's door open as she had just then. It was with a sigh of relief as she heard Dr Pearce's deep voice resonate across the large open space that encased the therapist's waiting room.

"Horatio, glad you could make it."

Jeff's voice was another that somehow made her feel safe. In all the years that she had known him, he had never once judged her or chastised her less than sensible actions when it came to herself and her safety. He had only offered her acceptance and understanding, yet she couldn't bring herself to reveal to him what it was that troubled her so.

"Jeff," her kindly benefactor replied as he pulled himself up to his full height. Striding across the room, he gave her another concerned gaze before he entered the therapist's office. As the door closed quietly behind the two men, she had no doubt that the kind stranger would ask her once more as to what it was that had unsettled her. It would be up to her to keep him from discovering the truth as best she could.


	82. Chapter 82

**A/N: I wanted to take this opportunity to wish one of my most loyal readers and reviewers a very happy birthday. Here's hoping you have a great day olliebella!  
**

* * *

She could hear the pointed heels of Horatio's ex-wife follow her into the supervisor's office. She had kept the sunny smile on her face until the woman she barely knew, yet had come to hate, closed the door loudly behind her.

Her expression changed from warm and friendly to cold and hard in an instant as she dropped all pretences of being welcoming. "Why have you come here?" she asked the older woman icily as she moved to behind the desk, yet remained standing, her arms crossed over her chest.

Laura flicked her shoulder-length hair back out of her face as she pinned Calleigh with a mean stare. "I've come to see John, not his latest bed-buddy."

Her eyes narrowed. She wanted nothing more than to walk around the desk and throttle the poor excuse for a woman in front of her. She willed herself to stay where she was, knowing that the wooden piece of furniture was the only thing stopping her from beating the living daylights out of her unwelcome visitor. "He's not here at the moment. And besides, you're not welcome around here."

Laura had the temerity to look affronted at that. "Says who?" she huffed as she dropped her purse down on the couch and took a couple of large strides towards the desk.

"I do. You have no business here. Why don't you get back on the next plane and go home?"

"No. Not until I get what I came for," the older woman shot back as she shook her head vigorously, feeling the red mists of rage descend upon her quickly.

Calleigh let out an exasperated sigh as her head fell back. Why couldn't this woman get it through her thick skull? Horatio wanted nothing to do with her anymore. "He doesn't want you, why can't you understand that?"

"He doesn't know what he wants at the moment."

"And how would you know, Laura?" Calleigh almost spat her name, as if the mere thought of her caused a bad taste to take up residence in her mouth. "You've never given a damn about his feelings before, why start now?"

Her face paled for a few brief moments. Just what had John told this woman about her? Had he painted her to be some kind of heartless villain in the whole piece? It was hardly as if he were angel himself, he'd wanted their physical reunion just as much as she did. Until he'd pulled away and rejected her, anyway. No, he wasn't going to get away with this scot-free. He'd played his part, and she was going to damn well put this stuck-up blond-haired bitch in her place.

"Did he tell you how he kissed me?" she began, with a satisfied smile on her face. "How he let me tear his clothes off. How he ran his hands all over my body. How hard he was when I touched him?"

Calleigh took a couple of deep breaths, hoping that her nervousness was not readily apparent to the other woman. It would do no good to let Laura see that her verbal barrages were hitting a little too close to home. Common sense dictated that Horatio's ex was just trying to goad her, but how much truth was there to what she was saying? Had Horatio only told her the bare minimum, trying to spare her the hurtful details of what he'd almost done? Just how far had they gone?

"He wanted it just as much as I did, missy. I saw it in his eyes when he looked at me, he still wants me as much as he did twenty years ago." Laura continued to press home her point, taking satisfaction from the small twitches on the younger woman's face as she carried on regardless. She was on a roll now, she wasn't going to stop until she'd finished. "Tell me, is he as much of an animal in the sack as he was all those years ago? He was a beast, always up for it, he never turned down a chance for a quick lay. Is he all over you like he was me?"

She knew that she couldn't answer that honestly. Yes, Horatio had been forceful and firm with her the other night, but it wasn't as if they were tearing each other's clothes off each and every time they came in contact with each other. Most of the time, their physical unions were sweet and loving, not just some kind of meaningless flash of passion that was quickly doused within a few minutes. There was still so much that Horatio was unsure about, his behaviour in the bedroom had been as unpredictable as his moods during the rest of the day recently.

It was unfair to compare his sexual prowess as a young man to the wearied and tortured person that he had become. The last twenty years had taken a significant amount out of him, to the point that it had left him questioning his worth as a man. It was little wonder that his confidence as a whole had taken a huge hit, especially considering the things he had been through recently.

She couldn't imagine Horatio as some cocky young lover-boy, the man she knew was far too reserved and respectful of women to just go around sleeping with people for the sake of it. But all young men were randy, sex was often all they thought about. She knew that from experience, and the immature younger men that she had dated.

With age came wisdom, suddenly it wasn't about the sexual side of a relationship that really mattered. Horatio seemed to understand that there was more to a meaningful relationship than what went on in the bedroom. When they made love, it felt like a declaration of his feelings towards her, that he wanted to spend as much time as possible showing her exactly how he felt. Less was certainly more in that regard, each time they came together, it actually meant something to the both of them.

Horatio had seen too many horrors, been through too much, to willingly give the most intimate parts of himself away to just anyone. His heart had long been hidden behind deep, impenetrable walls, never letting anyone get too close to him. He had become guarded, almost secretive about his personal life. No one was allowed to come too close, he wouldn't let them for the fear of being hurt again.

In those terrible few months after his abduction, he had been too weak in body and mind to even consider embarking on a relationship with her. He had struggled vainly with his body's own weaknesses and the emotional barriers that prevented him from accepting her loving embrace. He considered himself too damaged and scarred to be loved by a woman, both inside and out.

But she had worn him down with her stubborn insistence that she only saw a brave and beautiful man when she looked at him. Even now, she wasn't sure that he believed her when she said that she found the marks on his body as something to admire. To her, they were lasting reminders of what a good man he was and how much he had risked to protect the people he loved.

It had become clear to her that he felt as if the scars should be something to be ashamed of, that much she had gleaned from her conversation with Natalia when he'd first returned to the Lab. He'd hated his younger colleague to see the marks that he carried with him every day, never once rolling his sleeves up or taking off his suit jacket, even in the most humid of temperatures.

The only time she had ever seen him in a t-shirt had been when he knew it would just be the two of them. She assumed that he'd given up trying to hide them from her, she had cared for him too intimately as he recovered to not have noticed the healing wounds on his body. After all that he had been through, he was not likely to be as confident in himself and his ageing body, that would surely be a reason as to why he was sometimes so timid and unsure of himself in the sanctity of their bedroom, wouldn't it?

Laura continued to stare at her, waiting for answer. "Well? Got nothing to say, Blondie?" she sneered as she placed her hands on her hips. Satisfied that she had made her point well.

"What happens between Horatio and I is none of your business."

"What's the matter, he doesn't do it for you? I never had that problem with him, he knew exactly what to do to make me scream."

"If you had any idea what he's been through…..you'd leave him alone and stop messing with his head!" Calleigh shouted, feeling her faint control of her emotions fading by the second.

"Oh yes, poor John. Look what he's been through. Let's all pity him," Laura shot back facetiously. "What about the shit-heap of a mess he left behind!"

"He did it to protect you. If you weren't so wrapped up in your own self-importance you might have seen that."

The blonde woman had a point. She had been too wrapped up in her own feelings to consider what John might have been going through. That was just the way she was though, who else was going to look after number one? It wasn't as if her parents or her brother had ever really paid her much attention or consideration. Thinking about herself had been the only way that she'd been able to get her needs met.

She'd come too far, said too much to back down now. If she was going to go down, she was going to do it fighting. "He's always loved me, you know that? Even when we split he still came back begging for more….wanting to give our marriage another go."

"Well, that boat's long since sailed, Laura. He's moved on in his life without you."

She smirked at Calleigh's words. "The man is so messed up that he doesn't know what it is that he wants."

That much was true, Calleigh couldn't deny. But where did this evil little witch get off in playing with his mind, messing with his feelings?

"If you really loved him, you'd see how vulnerable he is right now." Horatio would hate the fact that she had said such a thing, yet she had to make Laura understand just how confused he was at the moment.

"He's not vulnerable. He knew exactly what he was doing when he kissed me….when he ran his hands up and down my body. He was rock hard when I touched him."

"He's not well, Laura!" she screamed. Suddenly, the hustle and bustle in the corridor outside quietened to no more than an imperceptible hush. It took a concerted amount of effort, but she finally managed to get her fiery Southern temper back under control. "You took advantage of him, you made him do those things. He would never have done that to you…..you should be ashamed of yourself. You're lucky that I don't charge you with sexual assault."

Laura let out a humourless laugh at the empty threat. "Really? You think John's going to thank you for airing his dirty linen in public? Then everyone will know just how _vulnerable _he is. Besides, it's not sexual assault if he wanted it in the first place. He's a grown man, he can make his own choices. Don't come blaming me if he wanted to choose a roll in the hay with me over you. That's your problem, not mine."

"You don't understand what they did to him. They hurt him….badly."

"They broke a few bones, they didn't give him brain damage. The fact remains that John knew what he was doing when he kissed me. He wanted it and you can't deny that." She felt ashamed that such caustic words were flowing from her own mouth, she couldn't stop herself though. There was something about this Southern woman that really irked at her, that perky smile and demeanour were nothing more than a façade for the true woman that lurked underneath.

God, she wanted to break every bone in this vile woman's body and teach her a thing or two about brain damage. How could any one person be so cruel and vindictive, talking so coldly about the man she professed to still have feelings for? This woman was a real piece of work, just what had she said to Horatio to make him do those things with her?

She knew that if he were in his right mind that he would not have gone near her, would not have allowed this sorry excuse for a woman past his carefully constructed defences. Perhaps that was the point though, that he still wasn't in his right mind, that he still wasn't strong enough to re-shore those defences. There were elements of the man she had fallen in love with that were slowly returning, had she been fooling herself to think that things were starting to get back to the way they were?

He had asked her to take a step back as he regained his physical strength and mental fortitude, and she had done so, albeit warily. There had been great strides forwards in his recovery, yet neither her nor Horatio could deny that there was still such a long road to travel, and she knew that he would not be able to move forward until his ex-wife and her conniving ways had been removed from his life entirely.

"You need to stay away from him if you know what's good for you," Calleigh warned, her voice dangerously low.

"Is that some kind of threat?"

"No, it's a promise. If you don't stay away from him…..I promise that you'll regret it."

Laura crossed her arms over her chest again as she sneered at the woman who was battling her for a place in John's heart. "I've already had the same speech from Andy. I'm not going to let anyone tell me what I can and can't do. I certainly won't be dictated to by some blond bimbo like you."

Calleigh smiled inwardly. _Good. Let her underestimate me. If she comes anywhere near Horatio again she's going to wish she'd never been born._

"What are you smiling at?" Laura scowled as she took in the self-satisfied smirk of the woman a few feet away from her.

"If you're planning to fight for him…..you won't win. You know that, right?"

"What makes you so sure that he won't choose me?"

"Because Horatio loves me," was Calleigh's simple reply.

"But what about John? Who does _he_ love?"

Calleigh's face fell as she realised that her arch enemy was right. There could be no denying that the man she loved was still struggling with piecing together two fractured lives into one whole. He'd flitted between the Horatio she knew and another version that she barely recognised. When the dust had settled, who or what would remain?

"Don't be so sure that it's you he loves, Blondie. Maybe you don't know the man you're sleeping with as well as you think you do."

Satisfied that she had made her point, Laura picked up her purse and left the room with a victorious smile on her face, knowing that her parting shot had landed squarely on target.

Calleigh felt the air leave her body in a rush as the events of the past few minutes began to slowly sink in. As showdowns went, it had been pretty spectacular, yet she expected nothing else from the fiery woman she had come to understand through the small pieces of information that she had gleaned from Horatio and Andy.

She hadn't expected Laura to be quite the piece of work that she had been though, there was something so inherently unlikable about the woman that it amazed her that Horatio had ever seen anything in her in the first place. No matter which way she tried to spin it, her thoughts returned to the same thing, over and over. She could no longer deny that Horatio and the younger man from his past, John, were in many ways two completely different people.

When he'd been young, he'd not yet been weighed down by the weight of the world and the responsibility that he seemed hell-bent on taking on for other people. He had perhaps once been a keen and eager young man, ready to set the world alight and make his own way in life. One by one, the struggles that befell him had chipped away at the lighter side of his personality as he slowly loosened his grip on his youthful freedom, leaving behind a wary and reserved man in its place.

Years of heartache had caused him to retreat in upon himself, shielding his wounded heart from further distress. She had no doubt that there were striking similarities between his past and present personas. That steely grit and determination had likely always been there, as had the heroic way in which he would sacrifice his own safety for that of others. Yet there was no denying that there were noticeable differences between the two, Horatio's behaviour in the past week or so had served to show her that he still had a great deal of work to do in order to come to terms with the person he was now.

But she would help him to do that, she would stay by his side and provide the strength and support that he so clearly needed at such a difficult time. Laura and her meddling ways be damned, she would not stand in the way of a relationship that Calleigh knew was worth fighting for. They would deal with each hurdle as it came, each time Horatio faltered, she would reinforce the fact that she loved him, and that one day, he would learn to love and accept himself too.


	83. Chapter 83

Jeff regarded his client quietly, casting furtive glances to the red-headed man as he busied himself preparing the coffee. The subdued gentleman was as distracted as he'd ever seen him in the short time he'd known the police lieutenant. Horatio continued to sit there, elbows rested on his knees and his head slightly bowed, giving the impression that he was completely lost in his own thoughts.

He brought the coffee mugs over to his desk and placed one in front of his visitor. "Here," he said as he pushed the ceramic mug further toward the other man, "You look like you could do with it."

Horatio lifted his head briefly and gave a small smile before his shoulders sank even further down than they had before. It looked as if he were carrying the weight of a thousand men on his shoulders as he sat there, staring at the carpeted floor.

"You look troubled," Jeff observed as he took a sip of his coffee, wincing when his tongue registered just how hot the beverage still was. He frowned as Horatio continued to keep his gaze to the ground, unable or unwilling to respond. "I take it the meeting with you ex was a difficult affair?"

The therapist allowed a small smile to cross his face as he saw his client's immediate response to his line of questioning. He'd hit a nerve, that much was obvious. "Tell me how it went," he prodded, knowing that Horatio would open up of his own accord.

"I'd rather not," was the sardonic reply from his reluctant client.

"That bad?"

Horatio let out a deep sigh. "In a word…..yes."

"How so?" He could see that his repeated questioning was irritating the other man. _Good, _he thought, _that's the whole point._

"She wasn't best pleased to see me," Horatio began, only to be cut off.

"You've told me that before. Now tell me the real reason."

The two men stared at each other for a number of minutes, like two bulldogs fighting over the same chew toy. Jeff was experienced enough to know that men like Horatio were tough nuts to crack, sometimes they needed a bit of firm motivation to open up and reveal their fruits. Skirting around the issue and playing nice with a man as stubborn as the lieutenant would be a pointless exercise, they would just spend hours going around in circles, avoiding what it was that they were trying to achieve.

At least he had strength and emotional stability on his side. Jeff knew that his tired client was likely to crack before he was. It was just a case of waiting the other man out, waiting for that tired sigh to emanate from his fatigued body. It wasn't long in coming either.

"We talked a lot about the past….about what happened," Horatio muttered finally, fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt with his right hand, occasionally running his hand over the support brace that he wore on his left arm, another reminder of what had been done to him. How he had been left broken and fractured by the Malucci's and their sadistic games.

"Did you come to an understanding?"

He let out a small, humourless laugh at that. "She screamed and shouted at me a first, told me how it was all my fault. I tried to make her see…..make her understand why I did those things….that I had no choice."

"And did she understand?"

He looked up briefly before he answered, another deep sigh coursing its way through his body. "She said she did. Then she told me….." his words trailed off as he closed his eyes, remembering how magical those three small words sounded when she finally uttered them.

Jeff watched his client quietly for a number of moments, seeing the tension drain visibly from his body as Horatio relived some kind of memory in his mind. "What did she tell you, Horatio?"

"She told me….."

He waited, knowing that Horatio was having a hard time putting into words what had happened. He'd never known the man to ever be lost for words, whatever his ex had said, it had likely been something monumental to leave him this unable to articulate what he had felt.

"She told me that it was ok. That she forgave me…She told me that I didn't have to keep fighting anymore."

"And I can see from your reaction that it meant a lot to hear those words from her. How did you react?" Jeff watched as Horatio again closed his eyes. He could see the emotional barriers coming back down as he studied the man's face, the tension making a visible and instant return to his body.

"I felt relieved," Horatio replied, taking himself by surprise with his honesty. "I'd waited so long to hear that….I needed to hear it." Jeff nodded his head and allowed him to continue. "She was standing so close to me and when she said it…..when she said those words…..it was like someone had knocked my feet out from under me."

The therapist nodded as Horatio looked up at him, hoping to find understanding in Jeff's expression.

"She just held me there…I couldn't move. I didn't _want _to move."

"Tell me what happened next." He already knew the answer, he just needed the stubborn man in front of him to admit it out loud. He watched as Horatio rubbed a tired hand over his face, the man looked absolutely drained. They couldn't stop though, Horatio had to face what had happened in order to move past it.

"I cried," he spoke finally, as if the words sounded distasteful to him. "She held me while I cried like a baby."

"There's nothing wrong with crying, Horatio." Jeff smiled as he was rewarded for his comments with a fearful glare. "You've been carrying around a heavy burden for the last twenty years. There aren't many men who could've turned their back on everything they knew, make the people around them think he'd gone rogue and live a life like you did. You did all of that alone, with no one to help you. It's no wonder that you reacted in the way you did. Forgiveness is a huge part of what you're looking for…..a huge part of what you need."

"I'm not looking for anything," Horatio shot back quickly.

"You are, you just don't realise it yet," Jeff replied evenly as he watched his client slow his breathing to a more sedate pace, allowing him to calm in his own time instead of forcing the issue. Men like Horatio would not be pushed by anyone into doing something, they would only clam up tighter if tested. Horatio would begin again when he felt comfortable enough to do so, it was just a case of waiting him out.

"When she held me…I remembered how things used to be, how different life was then." He paused as he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Back in New York….I knew what it was that I wanted….what I was going to do with my life. Then things got….."

"Complicated?" Jeff suggested after a lengthy pause, fairly certain that his client was not going to finish the sentence himself. He saw Horatio nod his head silently a few moments later.

"Things spun out of control so quickly…..and no matter how hard I tried…..things just kept getting more convoluted….more twisted with each day. My life just turned to chaos and I couldn't control it…..I tried…God…..I tried."

"And then your past came back to haunt you?"

Again, Horatio nodded his head, but kept his gaze to the floor, absent-mindedly worrying at his shirt sleeve. "I lost everything that I thought I knew….suddenly everything was alien…..All I knew was how I felt back in New York. Things were so much simpler then…I didn't have to constantly fight myself every day…..Things were easier."

"And you wanted to return to that, to those feelings?" Jeff's tone held no hint of accusation, just a level of calm understanding.

"Yes," was the solemn reply.

"Tell me what happened with Laura," the therapist prodded again, being mindful of keeping his voice quiet and even. He watched with interest as the man before him began to tense noticeably once more. "Horatio, you need to face this."

"I'd closed my eyes…..and then she…." he trailed off again, unable to complete the sentence.

"What did she do?"

Horatio let out a frustrated sigh as he shot a filthy look at Jeff. "You already know what she did, I can see it in your eyes!"

"I need you to tell me, Horatio."

Jeff watched as his client waged an internal battle with himself, the emotions flickering across his face like clouds in front of the sun. Horatio wanted to deny those complex feelings, but in order to truly move on, and gain an understanding of who he really was, he would need to face them.

"She…..she," he began before faltering again. He took a shuddering breath and made one last attempt. "She kissed me," he finally admitted, feeling his cheeks colour in shame. He'd betrayed Calleigh, betrayed the woman that he'd claimed to love. He sat there waiting, waiting for Jeff to tell him what a complete bastard he was for doing such a thing to her.

"How did you react? Did you respond in kind?" Again, there was no hint of reproach in the other man's voice, only a willingness to understand.

Horatio held his head in his hands, unable to look Jeff in the eye as he admitted what a callous thing he had done. How could he have ever contemplated getting involved with Lori again?

"And now you feel bad about it?"

Horatio's head shot up at that question. "Of course I do! Calleigh's done nothing but love me and this…..this is how I repay her?" He sounded disgusted with himself, and he was. How could he have done such a thing to his sweet, beautiful angel?

"Do you love Calleigh?"

The question was simple, he didn't need to think about the answer. "Of course I do."

"Do you love Laura?"

He blinked in momentary confusion, caught off guard by the question. He'd hesitated, why had he hesitated? The answer should have been simple; he didn't love her anymore, he hadn't for years. "I don't know," was his honest answer when he finally spoke. "What do you think?"

Jeff gave his client a sad smile. "It's not my place to judge your feelings. I will, however, hazard a guess as to why you feel so confused."

"Go on."

"I don't think that you're still in love with Laura, more the notion that she represents something you once had….something you once were. You're in love with the idea that you could go back to a simpler time, when you were younger….when things were much less complicated than they are now. It's not Laura that you want…it's the innocence of your past….the innocence that was taken away from you."

Jeff watched as Horatio looked at him warily, seeing the cogs whirring away in his harried brain as he digested what he'd been told. The tension soon began to leave the man's body as the fight in him drained away. Jeff sat back in his chair and watched Horatio physically sag further and further into his own.

"You understand." It wasn't a question. Just a simple statement of fact.

"Of course I do. I don't think you realise yet just how much emotional trauma you have to deal with. You're confused right now, and rightly so. All of those feelings you had back in New York have been thrust right back into your consciousness, you can't just turn them off and pretend that they don't exist. You're stuck somewhere between what John thought and felt and the new identity you carved out as Horatio."

"But Calleigh…."

"Does Calleigh know what happened with Laura?"

Horatio nodded his head sadly once more. "She does."

"And how did she react?"

He closed his eyes at the difficult conversation he and Calleigh had shared only yesterday. It had been a harrowing experience, as he was forced to deal with emotions that still seemed so bizarre and unnatural to him. What was worse was the fact that he had been confronted with aspects of his personality that shocked him, the things he could be capable of, and it didn't sit well with him.

But Calleigh had not rejected him, she hadn't thrown him out of her house, hurling his paltry belongings after him. She had sat there and listened, she had understood and accepted his transgressions. But how could she?

"She told me that it was ok…..that it wasn't my fault. But it was though…..I played my part in it….part of me wanted to sleep with Lori."

"But you didn't?"

Horatio shook his head. "No, I didn't," he replied quietly. "But I was so tempted though…..Lori….she just kept on and on…..She told me that we could go back to the way things were…..I wanted so badly to just stop thinking…..I just wanted to feel...I wanted to be treated like the man I was...the man I used to be."

"After years of selflessness you just thought, 'Hey, why the hell not me?'"

"It's not like that," Horatio began.

"It's a very human response, Horatio. You've done so much giving that a part of you is yearning to take something back….just for once." He watched as Horatio looked at him incredulously for a moment or two. "You wanted something for yourself, there's nothing wrong with that."

"But I hurt Calleigh, I betrayed her," Horatio insisted, not willing to listen to what he was being told by the other man.

"Right now, you need to be concerned about what is best for you."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you need some time to figure out what it is that _you_ want, where you want _your_ life to be heading. Do you even know what it is that's driving you at the moment?"

He scowled at Jeff, not liking the answers he was being given. Yet he knew the session would turn out this way, he would be forced to face his conflicting emotions, to question his own behaviour, and he knew that he'd be found wanting.

"You know what happened with Laura was wrong." It was a statement, not a question.

Horatio ran a ragged hand through his hair, exasperated that Jeff had moved the goal posts so suddenly. "You just told me that you understood!"

"I said I understood, not that I agreed with your actions." Jeff kept his voice level, knowing that one false move could cause the situation to blow up and out of all control.

Horatio continued to stare at him, trying to intimidate him with his flinty gaze. "You were the one who told me that I should meet with her. I did what you said and now it's my fault?"

It was such a childish response, but one that was not unexpected. The man before him was being confronted with a few home truths, things that were hard to hear. Sugar-coating it would not do Horatio any good. He was a direct man, his comments commanded a direct response. "Nobody made you do anything, Horatio. You chose to meet with Laura, much in the same way as you chose to kiss her. You chose to let her almost become intimate with you again because a small part of you wanted to. You need to accept responsibility for that."

It was all a matter of maintaining that eye contact until his reluctant client finally caved and acceded the point. Moments ticked by as the clock on the wall kept the minutes of the now silent meeting of the two strong and forthright men.

"So what does that say about me?" Horatio finally asked, letting out a deep and wearied sigh.

"It says that you still have a long way to go. I think you need a little time and distance in order to get your head straight, I'm not sure you're going to be able to do that in your current situation."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting that you take some time out to assess who you really are and what it is that you want."

"And how do I do that?"

"You need to get away, Horatio. I mean physically away from Miami, from everything that holds you here at the moment. You need to be free to really understand what's happened and come to terms with it. You can't do that with all of these undue influences around you."

"But what does that mean? What are your trying to tell me?"

Jeff could hear that his put-upon client was growing increasingly frustrated by his responses. "I think you know what it is you need to do," he suggested quietly, ignoring Horatio's ire.

"I can't do that to Calleigh…..I won't." His words were assertive, he would not be swayed from his stance on this one.

"Horatio, you need to think about what is best for you….what's best for your relationship with Calleigh in the future. You keep saying that she deserves better than you….well, she deserves a whole you, someone who's at peace with himself. You can't give that to her if you don't know who you are."

"But she's done so much for me…..she won't understand…..she'll think that I don't love her."

"Maybe she will at first…..but she'll come to understand that you need to do this, Horatio. Right now, she's being too understanding and you're at risk of taking advantage of that good nature."

"I would never do that," Horatio shot back, galled by the thought.

"A whole and complete Horatio would never do that. You have to accept that part of you is still John Kelly from Queens. You need to find a way to bring both halves together to make some kind of whole. You can't live with two differing personalities waging war in your head, it'll drive you mad."

"But how will I know when that is?" Horatio sounded for all the world like a lost little boy. Perhaps that was the point, he was lost in so many ways. Like a map without a compass, his life had no direction at the moment. How could he ever see which was the right path to take if he couldn't focus on what it was that he wanted, on who he was as a man?

Jeff smiled at him, satisfied that his point had been heard and understood. "You'll just know."

He looked at his watch, surprised to find that the time had flown so quickly. "Horatio, let's call it a day now. We'll meet again the day after….."

Jeff never had time to finish the sentence, a high-pitched scream filled the air causing both men to freeze in place momentarily. The voice was unmistakably that of Sally, his beloved receptionist.


	84. Chapter 84

Jeff shot up from behind the desk, the fright clearly written on his face. "That's Sally," he said in a panicked voice as he made to move towards the door.

Taking a couple of steps to his right, Horatio blocked the therapist's path with a raised hand. "Stay here, Jeff. Let me deal with this."

"But she could be in trouble. I have to help her!"

Jeff ran a trembling hand over his short greying hair as he tried once more to get past Horatio. He found himself blocked at every turn.

"All the more reason to let me deal with this."

The two men stared at each other for what seemed like an age before Jeff nodded his head. Defeated, he took a step back.

"Stay here," Horatio commanded as he pulled the cell phone out of his jacket pocket and handed it to the other man, hoping that giving him a job to do, no matter how menial, would likely calm the man's frayed nerves a little, giving himself enough time to take control of the situation.

Horatio pulled his jacket back and quietly removed his service weapon from its holster as he crept silently towards the door. "When I walk out there," he began as he motioned with his head to the other side of the door. "I want you to call the first number listed on the speed dial. Tell whoever answers that we have a 415 in progress, Code 2, and that we need immediate assistance. Can you do that?"

Jeff looked at the phone in his hands, noticing the tremors that were coursing through them. "I…I don't know," he stammered as he ran a hand through his hair again.

Horatio turned to face Jeff and walked back towards him. "Jeff, you can do this, ok?" The older man nodded but looked doubtful. "Repeat after me. There is a 415 in progress. Code 2. Immediate assistance required."

Both men heard Sally scream again. The lieutenant knew that time was of the essence, he needed to get out into the reception area as soon as possible, but he wouldn't be able to until he got Jeff to focus. "Jeff, repeat what I've just said."

Slowly, the therapist's eyes returned to the phone. He took a deep breath and willed himself to remember what he'd just been told. "A 4…..um…."

"A 415," Horatio repeated, trying to hold his rising sense of frustration and panic at bay. He had to get past the door. Quickly. He watched as Jeff forced himself to concentrate.

"A 415. Code 2. Immediate assistance?" Jeff looked at him hopefully.

Horatio gave him a tight nod of the head and a brief smile. "Perfect," he replied before making his way back over to the door. "Whatever happens, do _not _open this door. Ok?"

"But Sally…..she's out there."

"And so will I be. You need to keep calm, Jeff. I need you to focus, you can do that for me?"

It was less of a question and more of a statement. The therapist nodded his head and was rewarded with another small smile from the complicated police officer, a man that he had only just begun to know, watching as Horatio opened the door slowly and peeked through the crack in order to get a better understanding of the situation on the other side. He was about to tell him to be careful when the door closed quietly. He sat down at his desk and stared at the phone again, hoping that Horatio would be able to deal with whatever lay on the other side.

With gun drawn, he silently crept from the doorway, somewhat satisfied that he hadn't been spotted yet. As soon as he had opened the door he had recognised the tattoos of the man who was holding Sally hostage. How could he have forgotten them? He'd only just seen them this morning. They belonged to the man who had threatened to take justice into his own hands, seeking retribution for the slaughter of his step-brother.

He took another step forward and kept his left hand on the heavy wooden door until it had clicked gently shut behind him, it was only then that he adopted his favoured stance as he looked down the barrel of his gun. He continued to creep quietly forward, hoping to gain as much ground as he could before Cesar realised he was there.

"I know you're behind me, Caine," the Hispanic man drawled as he tightened his hold around Sally's neck, causing her to whimper pitifully.

"Then let the girl go, Cesar. She's not part of this."

A small laugh emanated from Cesar. He could see the tattoos rise and fall on the broad shoulders of the recently released convict as he continued to chuckle. "I needed a little leverage. Seems you didn't take me seriously this morning."

He gripped his gun tightly, hoping that his clammy hands wouldn't cause his hold to loosen on his weapon. "I heard you loud and clear, Cesar. My people are doing everything they can to find out who killed Jesus."

He was shocked by how quickly Cesar turned, pulling Sally roughly round with him as she let out a pained yelp. He could see the pain and fear in her eyes, and tried to convey through sight alone that he would get her out of this situation in one piece.

"Your people have done nothing!"

"You need to give us time, Cesar. We're doing everything we can."

"No, you're not. You don't care, as long as it's another piece of scum off the streets. Isn't that what you all say, Caine?"

"Cesar…..listen to me," he implored the furious gunman, "This isn't going to help. Just let the girl go and we can talk about this."

"We've got nothing to talk about!"

Horatio sensed that he would perhaps need to change tacks in order to talk his opponent down. He didn't much fancy the other option, he'd frozen the last time he'd been in a situation like this. Who was to say that it wouldn't happen again? Except this time Ryan and Eric would not be here to save his skin. He was on his own, he needed to take command of the situation before it got out of hand, before people got hurt.

"My team…..they found the body this afternoon. We know it was you, Cesar. You killed the man who you thought was responsible for your brother's death, didn't you?"

Cesar bristled at the accusatory tone of his counterpart as he once more adjusted his grip on his hostage's neck. "I still got people on the streets, they told me who my little bro's partner was. I knew you pigs wouldn't get him, so I did him in first."

Horatio narrowed his eyes, hoping to get a better vantage point that would allow him to take aim at Cesar and take him out before he'd have a chance of hurting Sally. "So you admit that Jesus was involved in the double homicide?"

Cesar could have kicked himself for his foolish admission. Still, it didn't matter now. Jesus was dead anyway, and so was the little prick who'd killed him. "Hector got what was coming to him. Family look after their own, you hear me, Caine?"

"I do," he replied before taking a step forwards, gradually closing the distance between them. He gave Sally a tight smile, hoping that she took a little reassurance from the fact that she wasn't alone. "This is over, Cesar. Just let the girl go, she's got nothing to do with this."

The frightened young woman flinched as she felt the cold metal of the gun bite into the skin on her neck as her assailant once more tightened his grip on her. "Stay where you are, Caine, or I swear I'll blow her head off and then yours!"

"Cesar, you've got nowhere to go. I don't want to hurt you…..but I will...if you make me." He silently hoped that it sounded as forceful in reality as it did in his head. Right now, it was all he could do to keep his hands from shaking, the images of the hostage situation at the warehouse came vividly to mind. What if he froze again?

He heard that sneering laugh once more. "That's not what I've heard." He pointed his gun at his adversary this time as he kept a tight grip on the woman. "I heard they broke you, Caine. I heard they hurt you…..real bad. The word out there is that you've lost your bottle, the great Lieutenant Horatio Caine...afraid of his own shadow," Cesar taunted.

He willed himself to stop listening, Cesar was trying to get under his skin. Trying to make him doubt himself. Where the hell was that backup? Had Jeff even relayed the message he'd given him?

He gripped his weapon tighter and took another small step forwards. "Is that your gun I see shaking?" Cesar goaded as he took a step forward himself.

_You have a shot. Take the shot, _he repeated over and again in his head. All he had to do was block the taunting voice of Cesar out of his mind. They would get out of this situation, he and Sally. They would get out of this alive and unharmed.

"Come on, Caine. Show me what you got. Did they cut your balls off too?"

His eyes narrowed again as he felt his heart hammering in his chest. Time was running out. He had to do something.

"You can't do it, can you? You've lost your bottle, old man…..I heard…."

A single gunshot rang out as the words died in Cesar's throat. The limp body fell to the floor, sightless eyes staring up at the ceiling, a bullet wound marking a clear entry point into the front of his skull.

"I guess your heard wrong then, Cesar," Horatio quipped as he holstered his weapon and made his way quickly over to Sally. She looked at him with a sense of fright before grabbing hold of him and hugging him tightly. "Shhhhh. You're ok, Sally. You're safe now, I promise you."

He held her as she continued to weep, huge sobs wracked her body as she clung to him for dear life. He kept her head held against his chest, so much so that she couldn't see the pooling blood around the dead body of the man who had held her hostage.

He held her for what seemed like an age as her sobs slowly began to die out, but still she hung onto him, not wanting to let him go. He was her safe harbour, she clung to him as if her life depended on it. "It's all over, Sally. He can't hurt you anymore, ok?"

He felt her nod against his chest as he guided her towards Jeff's office, all the while keeping hold of her, maintaining the physical contact that she so obviously needed to feel. They had almost made it to the door when he heard movement from behind him. Quick as a flash, he placed his body in front of hers and brandished his gun, ready to fight off any of Cesar's friends that might have come to finish the job.

"Easy, H," Ryan said as he held his left hand in the air, his gun still gripped in his right. "It's just us. You ok?"

He took a deep breath as he holstered his gun once more and nodded his head. "Good timing, Mr Wolfe."

"Is that Donato?" Ryan asked as he motioned his head towards the dead body lying in the middle of the room, holstering his own weapon as he spoke. Natalia and Frank were bringing up the rear, he could already hear Frank puffing away as he climbed the stairs.

"It is."

"Is anyone else hurt?" Frank questioned as Ryan stood aside and let the stocky detective enter the room.

"No. Everyone is fine," Horatio answered as he stepped forward a few paces, leaving a shaking Sally behind him. "Relatively speaking, anyway."

"What happened?"

Horatio looked in Frank's direction as he watched the detective crouch down to check for a pulse on the body. It was a futile gesture, it was clear to see that Cesar was dead. "Seems our friend Mr Donato was a little impatient. He felt as if we weren't doing enough to find his brother's killer." He cast furtive glances at the door to Jeff's office. The therapist hadn't opened it yet and he prayed that the man was ok.

_Why wouldn't he be? _Horatio questioned himself as he shook his head imperceptibly. "Ryan, Natalia," he began as he looked at each of them in turn, "Please process the scene, I need to make sure that our hostages are unharmed."

The two CSI looked at each other and shared a doubtful look, watching as Horatio made his way back over to the young woman cowering by the door. It had shocked Ryan when he'd entered the room, Horatio was staring at him wildly with his service weapon aimed directly at him. Given Horatio's behaviour lately, it crossed Ryan's mind that his superior could easily have shot him by mistake.

_But he didn't, did he? _Ryan told himself as he collected his kit from the hallway. _He obviously didn't freeze this time either. He'd be looking at multiple dead bodies if he had._

Still, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right with this scenario. There had been no callout previous to the one he and Natalia had answered a short while ago, why had Donato come here, and how had Horatio been able to respond so quickly to the call?

He hadn't even heard Horatio radio his response in to Dispatch, attending a scene without notifying the Department was firmly against protocol, even a rookie uniformed officer knew that. Cops wading into unknown crimes in progress placed everyone in danger, including the officer themselves.

Horatio had been the first one to hammer home the point to his team, they never went in unauthorised, and never alone. It seemed to be a rule that the lieutenant often flouted himself, only listening to his own wise words when it suited him. The damn man had the luck of the Irish, that was for sure. Well, he had until recently. Now, Ryan wasn't so sure.

"Hey, Ryan. How about giving me a hand here," Natalia grumbled as she struggled to lift the dead weight of the corpse in front of her.

"Huh?"

She shook her head and mumbled under her breath, giving Ryan a pointed look when he finally tore his eyes away from Horatio and what he was doing.

He approached Sally slowly, aware that she was trembling and likely in shock. He kept his voice soft and low as he bent his head down to make eye contact with her. "Sally, are you ok?"

He could hear her hiccupping as she tried to gain some semblance of control over her body and her emotions. She looked up at him and attempted to speak, words failed her and so she nodded her head slightly instead.

Taking her gently by the arm, he guided her into the relative privacy of Jeff's office. "Let's get you sat down, ok?" She seemed to follow him blindly, although he could still feel the tremors wracking her body as she tried to place one foot in front of the other. "Well done, Sally," he crooned as he lowered her into the chair that he himself had been sat in not all that long ago, nodding his thanks to Jeff as the therapist busied himself with making a round of coffees. It didn't escape his notice that the man's hands were shaking slightly too.

He gratefully took the steaming cup of coffee from Jeff and gulped the scorching liquid down rapidly, not particularly caring that the black liquid caused a physical pain when it hit the back of his throat. He needed the hit of caffeine more than he needed use of his vocal cords at the present moment. The adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, causing his heart to thump wildly in his chest.

"You relayed the message, Jeff. Well done." He gave the older man a tight smile, watching as Jeff paced slightly around the room.

"What the hell was all that about, Horatio?" he asked as he ran a hand through his hair, before placing his hands on his hips. He'd heard enough stories from cops and military men in his line of work about how nerve-wracking hostage situations could be. He had to admit that he'd underestimated the control and mental strength it took to handle situations like that head-on. He'd just had his first real dose of what it was like to be in the thick of the action, and he wasn't sure that he particularly enjoyed it.

"The situation has been taken care of," Horatio replied evasively as he stood side on between Jeff and Sally.

"So I heard," Jeff replied a little too quickly. "I'm guessing that was your gun I heard go off?"

_Stupid question, Jeff! If it wasn't his gun then he wouldn't be standing in front of you right now, would he?_

"It was," Horatio sighed with a sense of genuine regret in his voice. Taking the life of another had never been a pleasurable experience for him. But Cesar Donato had given him no choice but to take the shot. Or had he?

He could have wounded the man, had he deliberately chosen to kill him instead? Did he need the reassurance that he still had what it took to take the shot, and more importantly, to take another person's life?

Had a part of him wanted to kill Cesar just to prove to himself that was still capable of doing his job?

Jeff's strong grip on his shoulder shook him from his reverie, he looked up into the other man's eyes. "Thank you, Horatio. You saved our lives today."

He squirmed slightly under the intensity of Jeff's gaze. "Just doing my job," he mumbled, feeling uncomfortable that two pairs of grateful-looking eyes were staring intently back at him.

"Well, what you did was amazing. I wasn't sure any of us were going to get out of this alive."

It sure didn't feel amazing, now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off. He was now acutely aware of the compromising situation he found himself in. Cesar had obviously followed him here, and now the place was swarming with his colleagues. Surely they would piece it all together and realise why he had been here first. It dawned on him then that the team would want to know what he was doing here. They would begin to question his behaviour since his return, if they hadn't already, and they would inevitably find him wanting. Word would get back to the Chief and IAB, then his career would effectively be over. He'd be forced to ride a desk or pushed into an early retirement. Neither of those options seemed particularly appealing to him at the moment.

There was a loud knock at the door before it creaked open noisily, Frank Tripp stood on the other side as he watched the scene before him, feeling like he was intruding on something personal. "Ok if I come in and take some statements?" the big man asked. Horatio nodded his head and motioned for him to come in.

He was thankful that Frank had the good grace to keep his questioning of Sally relatively short. The poor woman was still in a terrible state and could only give one or two word answers at best. The coffee seemed to have done nothing to ease her nerves, it was likely that the she would need a much stronger type of drink in order to cope with the events of the day.

"Ok, I think I've got enough for now," Frank said gently as he smiled at her, looking at Horatio for confirmation before he let her leave.

He guided her to the door and instructed a uniformed officer to escort her home. Sally looked back before she left the room and gave Horatio a watery smile and small wave, hoping to convey the gratitude she felt towards him.

Frank then turned his attention to Jeff, watching as the grey-haired man paced back and forth behind his desk, clearly distracted. The detective peered down at the name badge on the oak desk. "Dr Pearce?"

The therapist tore his gaze from the window and turned in the direction of the voice. "That's me. Jeff Pearce."

"You wanna tell me what happened here today?" Frank asked as he held his pen and notepad ready with the intention of noting any pertinent information down.

"You pretty much know what happened," Jeff replied evasively, casting a furtive glance to Horatio every now and then. Frank was an experienced enough detective to pick up on the slightly nervous lilt to the man's voice.

"I'd rather hear it from you, Doctor."

The therapist looked to Horatio once more who nodded his head slightly. "I heard Sally scream and then I called for help. I'm not sure how much more assistance I can be of to you, detective." He shrugged his shoulders as he sat down in his office chair, feeling for all the world as if his legs were going to fail him suddenly. The adrenaline was wearing off and now shock was starting to set in.

Frank looked unimpressed by the doctor's answer, there was something hinky going on. He just couldn't put his finger on it...yet. "The information that you gave to Dispatch was quite specific, something only someone in law enforcement would know. How did you know which codes to give?"

The detective watched as his colleague and the doctor seemed to be having some kind of silent conversation, relayed through eye contact and facial expressions alone. If he had any doubt before, all the alarm bells were ringing now.

"I…..uh…." the doctor stammered as he tried to avoid Frank's steely gaze. "I…"

"Because I told him, Frank."

Horatio's voice was quiet yet firm, Frank turned his attention to his colleague, feeling even more confused than he had a moment ago. He ran a frustrated hand over his head, "Does someone want to explain to me what's going on here, 'cos right now this is making the kind of sense that well…..doesn't."

He was glad that he'd pulled his sunglasses out of his jacket pocket, it proved a useful tool with which to avoid Frank's penetrating gaze. "I was already here with Dr Pearce when we heard Sally scream."

The detective took a moment or two to think about what Horatio had just told him. What would the lieutenant be doing talking to a shrink? Was their business professional or personal?

He suddenly realised that he didn't want to know the answer to that. Still, there had been an officer-involved shooting, all pertinent questions had to be asked, whether they seemed relevant at the time or not.

"Why were you here, Horatio?" He winced as the words left his mouth, knowing that his colleague would not take kindly to his prying. Horatio had barely had time to open his mouth before Jeff had answered for him.

"We have a mutual friend….Alexx Woods?"

"Yeah, I know her," Frank answered, his mind immediately casting back to a few months ago when all of them had seen more of the good lady doctor than they might have wanted to. She had been the physician in charge of Horatio's primary care as he started on the long road to recovery.

"Well…..I've had a few clients that have given me cause for concern with some of their admissions recently. I wanted the Lieutenant's advice on the best course of action to take, in an off-the-record chat….so to speak."

He certainly didn't miss the way Horatio's eyes narrowed at the doctor as he willingly volunteered the information. Was Horatio hiding something? He wouldn't put it past the man, yet he had no reason to doubt him either. Horatio had proved, time and again, his loyalty to the team and to the city he'd sworn to protect. He would leave it at that and hand his report in, if anyone wanted to investigate any further, then that was up to them. As far as he was concerned, it was case closed.

Frank pocketed his notepad in the breast pocket of his jacket. "Thank you for your time, Dr Pearce. I'll see you back at the ranch, Horatio?"

Horatio looked up briefly from his sunglasses, a scowl still marring his handsome features. "Yes, you will, Francis."

He waited until his colleague had left the room before pinning Jeff with an icy glare. "Do you realise what you've done, Doctor?" The friendly tone had gone and was replaced with a low growl instead. How could Jeff have been so stupid as to lie like that?

"I was protecting my client's right to privacy," Jeff shot back as he puffed out his chest and rose to his feet, he wasn't going to let the man in front of him intimidate him.

"By committing perjury?"

"Semantics, Horatio. The fact remains that you were here when it all took place, the reason why is secondary to that. It's not going to change the outcome of what happened. You shot an armed suspect who was holding a woman hostage, that's all that anyone needs to know."

"That's not your decision to make, Jeff." He virtually spat the man's name.

"It's not like I lied under oath. I was just a little creative with the truth is all," the doctor shrugged, clearly at ease with his actions, even if his client was not.

"I don't like it," Horatio grumbled as his gaze returned to his glasses. Why were all of these people risking their careers and lying for him?

"You don't have to like it."

The two men stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, Horatio eventually backed down by letting out a resigned sigh as his head dropped. "This discussion isn't over."

"And you can berate me at our next session. Right now, I need a stiff drink and an early night. So if you wouldn't mind?" he replied as he gestured for the door, letting out his own small sigh when his client finally left the room.

He sat back down in his chair and let out a nervous breath. He was getting far too old for this kind of excitement anymore.


	85. Chapter 85

He'd hoped for a few moments of peace before being hassled again, but it was not to be. Eric and Walter had heard of the events at Jeff's office and had already begun asking questions. He'd hoped that he'd managed to appease them with a highly edited version of events.

"Good job you were there, H," Walter had said before patting him on the shoulder and returning to his duties in the Lab.

Perhaps the big man might not be so quick to praise him when he learned of the reason why he was there in the first place. Jeff lying had done him no favours, his people were too smart not to see what was going on right under their noses. It would only be a matter of time before his darkest secrets would be laid bare to the whole team. He would be forced into early retirement, while the rest of the Department picked over the bare bones like he was some kind of rotting carcass, to be pulled apart and dissected at will.

But perhaps it was the commendation on the accuracy of his shot from Eric that had galled him the most. The words were intended to be encouraging, yet it had only served to make him feel smaller than he had last week when he'd frozen at the warehouse. Eric's patronising comments had made him feel as if he were being given a pat on the head for good behaviour. He forced himself to smile, although it came out as more of a pained grimace, nodding his thanks to his well-meaning colleagues before excusing himself quickly and making his way to the supervisor's office.

Slumping down heavily on the couch, he lifted his hands to his face and willed the small tremors to stop. He winced as he looked at the bent fingers on his left hand, clenching and then releasing his fist in a repetitive fashion, as he tried to rid himself of the tingling sensation that ran through the damaged appendage. He hadn't realised how much tension there had been in his body until he had finally pulled himself back into his Hummer. He had watched Jeff and his own colleagues leave, silently keeping guard, until one by one, they had pulled out of the parking lot.

It had been a tough day by anyone's standards, let alone his. What he needed now was a strong coffee, a hot shower and an early night. Preferably in that order. He knew it was wishful thinking, he'd had a report to fill in and hand to the Chief, he would then have to explain his actions to his superior, an investigation would in turn take place in order to assess if his actions were justified.

It was protocol that he handed his service weapon over to the detective in charge of the investigation, and he had done so. Frank's face conveyed his displeasure at having to carry out such an unpleasant duty. He merely nodded to his old friend as he unclipped his holster and handed his Sig over to him. There would be no need to draw the process out by filling the uncomfortable silence with meaningless platitudes.

The thought occurred to him that handing over his gun might be the first step in relinquishing his position at the Lab. It would soon become clear as to why he'd been at the doctor's office, first it would be his gun, and then would they take his badge. Like a boulder rolling down a mountain, he would be unable to stop the series of events as they unfolded, one by one. He'd be no more than a bystander to his own downfall, looking on in detached silence as his life and career fell apart before him.

He hadn't wanted to bring the unpleasant task of giving his statement and writing his own report in regards to the day's events to his office, and so he sat at Frank's desk and completed them instead, grateful when his old friend left him to his own devices after questioning him. He'd sat and stared at the form in front of him for an hour or more, before he finally found the courage to put pen to paper, feeling for all the world as if he were signing his own death warrant.

Common sense dictated that he should tow the party line in regards to the statement Jeff had given, even though it galled him to do so. His need to put others before himself once more won out, he would not sacrifice Jeff's career as well as his own. It wasn't so much the fact that Jeff had been dishonest that ate at him, more the fact that he had done it willingly to protect him. How many more people were going to risk their careers and reputations for him?

He was meant to be the protector of others, it was his job to take the risks, not them. What did any of them see in him to warrant chancing their own futures for him?

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, much too tired to comprehend such complex questions at the moment. Most of the day shift had left, the only ones remaining were those involved in the investigation of Cesar Donato's death. He could hear the members of the night shift bustling around, no doubt some of their chatter venturing towards what had transpired today.

He leaned his head back against the sofa as he let out a tired sigh, closing his eyes as he tried to let the stress of the day drain away from his weary body.

"Hey," a soft Southern voice called out to him.

He felt the cushions of the sofa dip noticeably as she sat next to him, leaning back and mirroring his posture.

"You ok?" she asked as she placed a hand on his thigh and gave it a quick squeeze. His left eye opened a crack, and even in the dim light of the office, he could see the warm smile that lit up her face.

"It's been a long day," he replied eventually. Even stringing a sentence together was becoming hard work now.

"You handed your report in, gave your statement?"

He hoped she could see the faint nod he gave, he was too tired for words now.

"Frank took your gun?"

Again, he nodded but said nothing.

"It's just formality you know, we all have to go through this every time there's an officer-involved shooting."

"People aren't stupid, Calleigh. They'll figure it out sooner or later, if they haven't already. It's just a matter of time before they put me on administrative leave, and we both know that they'll never let me back on active duty, let alone run the Lab."

"You don't know that, Horatio."

"Yes, I do. I might as well face it, my career is over. It was foolish to think that we could hide this." He reached out blindly and covered her hand with one of his own. "I appreciate everything you've done for me since I've come back...but it's over. There's no point fighting it anymore."

"You told me you wouldn't give up."

He could hear the genuine sadness, tinged with disappointment as she spoke. He'd hurt her again. "I'm not giving up, I'm just being realistic. I'm not right, Calleigh, I was fooling myself if I thought I could handle coming back. There's still so much that I can't deal with...maybe it's better this way…."

His next words were cut off by the shrill ringing of his phone. One look at the caller ID told him all he needed to know. He gave Calleigh a sad smile as he answered it.

"Yes, Chief. I understand, I'll be right up."

He stared at the phone for a number of moments before he glanced over at Calleigh. "Chief wants to see me straight away," he said by way of explanation as he put his phone back in the breast pocket of his jacket and made his way to the door. "I'll call you when I'm done, ok?"

She watched him sadly as he trudged from the office. There was no mistaking the deflated posture of his body, his shoulders visibly sagged as he closed the door quietly behind him. There was an air of defeat surrounding him, following him around like some kind of dark storm cloud, clinging to him like a shadow. She could tell by the way that he carried himself that he had resigned himself to the fact that his career was all but over.

But he had promised her that he would not give up, and here he was at the first sign of trouble, running away and giving up without a fight. It certainly wasn't the man that she had come to know and respect. The man that she had grown to love.

Perhaps she had pushed him too far yesterday in her quest to hear the truth about him and his ex-wife. He had admitted to things that he hadn't expected to, and had been shocked by the realisation of how badly he had nearly lost control that day. He had convinced himself that he was no more than a monster, the type of man that he had always held a special kind of revulsion for.

He'd been quiet since he'd woken this morning, she could see in the shadows on his face, and the tiredness in his eyes, that something had changed within him overnight. It felt as if he were pulling away from her, once more retreating into his solemn silence, berating himself for another of his perceived failings.

She had struggled to get more than one or two word answers out of him for most of the day. She'd hoped that leading the Jesus Fernandez case would be the gee-up that he needed to get his confidence back in regards to his job. From the reports she'd read, she certainly couldn't fault the way he had handled the investigation, even the chatter around the Department reinforced the opinion that Horatio was returning to the lieutenant of old.

He might have been returning to the old Horatio professionally, but personally was another matter entirely. There had been something about him that just hadn't been right all day, yet she had become far too busy to find the time to question him about it. She promised herself that she would do so tonight when they were in the comfort of her home.

_Our home, _she corrected herself.

Horatio's meeting with the Chief would be nothing more than a formality, according to the reports, he'd acted according to protocol. It was something of a relief to hear that there had not been a repeat of the incident at the warehouse. Horatio had been confronted with another hostage situation and had taken decisive action, had he not, the outcome could have been much worse.

But how could life throw him yet another curveball? He'd done everything possible to deal with his issues head-on over the last few weeks. Today's events had proved to her, if she had any linger doubts left, that Horatio was able to handle himself in the field from now on. His confidence in dealing with potentially dangerous situations had obviously come on leaps and bounds, so why would he be forced into Department-sanctioned psych evaluations when he'd already proved that he could cope?

She knew that Horatio was right, the team would piece it together sooner or later, and then word would spread that he had been using the services of a psychologist. It would be a step too far for Horatio, he would likely want to curl up and die at the embarrassment of his colleagues knowing his vulnerabilities. Why was life so unfair to the man she loved? When would he ever catch a break?

* * *

He felt as if he were travelling along dead man's alley as he made his way from the elevator to the Chief's office. Was it wrong to want to slow his pace just so that he could stave off the inevitable for a little while longer?

_This is it, _he thought to himself as he walked along the darkened corridor. The sun had begun to set a few hours ago, all that was left was the dim light of dusk as the powerful Miami sun lowered its fiery glare for another day. The Chief should have left hours ago, but he had stayed, and Horatio was under no illusions as to the reason why.

Chief Martin would want to deliver the news personally, and he supposed that he was owed that much at least. He would be thanked for his services to the Department, and the city, then he would be asked to hand over his badge, shield and back-up weapon. He'd be escorted from the building with a firm handshake and a pat on the back before being pushed in the direction of the sprawling city, no more than a citizen in the great metropolis that he used to protect.

He'd reached the door all too soon. Taking a deep breath, he raised his right hand and knocked firmly. Even in the dim light, he could see his hand shaking slightly. Of all the ways he'd imagined going out, this was not one of them. Ego, and his own sense of pride, would dictate that he would've liked to have retired some kind of hero, or killed in the line of duty, sacrificing his own life to save another.

Being relieved of duty for psychiatric reasons was not at the top of his list of ways to end his career. Hell, it had no place on his list at all. He would forever be viewed and remembered with a sense of pity, as the man whose career had broken him. People would look at him with those patronising eyes, giving sympathetic winces when they heard that the stresses of his job had been more than he could cope with. They would no longer see him as the strong one, he'd only be remembered for being weak and feeble.

But how much of that was his ego talking? A better man would take the hand he'd been dealt and play it regardless. Was it just greed and his own need for gratification that made him think that going out any other way would have been any less hard to deal with?

A part of him had hoped that Chief Martin had tired of waiting for him and had gone home, thus staving off the inevitable for a few more precious hours. Maybe, if he was given the chance to sleep on the idea, he would be a little more accepting of the hand that fate had dealt him.

It was not to be. He heard the deep voice of his superior instructing him to come in. _Man up, you idiot, _he told himself as he puffed his cheeks out and exhaled, slotting his game face into place before opening the door. It was almost symbolic, opening this door would signal the end of his career, and when he closed it on the way back out, he would be doing the same for his career.

He stood in the doorway, fiddling with his sunglasses and not wanting to make eye contact with the man who would dictate as to which way his life would head in the future.

"Horatio, glad you could make it. Take a seat, please."

He looked up briefly and suddenly wished that he hadn't. The look that the Chief was giving him was tinged with slight discomfort. He knew what would be coming shortly, he gulped deeply and took a seat, waiting for what he knew was to come.

"First up, how are you?"

_Shit, here it comes. _He risked another glance up at his superior and saw genuine concern in his gaze. _That isn't good._

He cleared his throat to speak, "It's been a challenging day, Chief," he answered honestly.

"Indeed, Lieutenant," Chief Martin replied before resting his elbows on his desk and leaning forward. "I called you in for a couple of reasons. We have some business to conclude that couldn't wait until morning."

He nodded his head sadly, "I see." He could feel it in his bones, the Chief couldn't have been clearer in his meaning if he'd tried. He just hoped that his old friend had enough respect for him to get it over with quickly.

Michael Martin was a man who had risen through the ranks over the course of his career. He'd worked hard to get into a position of power and authority, but not through any sense of need to wield it like some weapon of ferocity, cutting those beneath him down to size in an attempt to reinforce his superiority over them, more for the fact that he wanted to be in a position to affect real change within the Department and the city as a whole.

He was a Miami native, he'd grown up in this great city, yet he was under no illusions as to the seedy underbelly that hid shallowly beneath the surface. Miami was a city for the rich and the beautiful, a mecca for tourists, a place which had a great deal of aesthetic charm about it, welcoming all with its bright décor and sense of abandon. It was a holiday destination for those looking for a little fun, the spice of life with a Latin twist.

It didn't take much to scratch beneath the surface and see the ugly nature of the beast that was hidden behind palm trees, endless sandy beaches and thumping nightlife. Miami was a city divided, people separated by culture, creed and wealth. The place of his birth was the classic tale of two cities forced into one, divided between the rich and the poor, and not always equally.

Social standing was everything in a place like this, those that were well to do kept to their own little areas of Miami that they considered safe, mooring themselves in their fancy little boats and beach houses, drawing a definitive line between their idea of the city and the harsh realities that existed on the other side. The rich held themselves with an air of authority and self-importance, more concerned with their image than with the problems of this great place. It was just not acceptable to be seen in the poorer areas of Miami, not unless you belonged there, of course.

Miami was a city of culture with a high population of Latin Americans, refugees from countries less stable than this side of the border. Immigrants that had begged, crawled and swam their way across inhabited the less affluent areas of the sprawling metropolis, were often viewed by the rich as something to be ashamed of. Poor people had no place in a city as illustrious as Miami.

It was a social stigma that Michael Martin found hard to swallow. He'd been on both sides of the fence at most points during his life. His parents had never been particularly well off, and so they lived in a small area of Miami that dissected the rich from the poor, living on the fault line of what had the potential to be a highly explosive situation.

His parents had scrimped and saved enough money to put him through college, but they had also imbued him with the attitude that he would have to work in order to achieve his goals. His parents never gave anything to him freely, he would be expected to earn his keep as he became a teenager, helping his parents with chores around the house. It was this sense of structure and hard work that stood him in good stead when he applied to join the Miami Dade Police Department.

From the moment he graduated the academy, he knew what it was that he wanted to accomplish in his career. He'd kept his head down and worked his way up through the ranks, biding his time until the right opportunity presented itself. Too many of his peers were far more concerned about the politics that the role of Chief presented, but he paid it no mind himself. Should he be fortunate enough to be offered the position, he knew that he would not let his actions in that role be dictated by the internal bitching and backstabbing that was rife within the Department.

He had only been in the job for a few years, but he had already seen his fair share of the less than pleasant side of the job. It was his hope that he had treated those beneath him with a sense of respect and had dealt with them fairly. Handing out disciplinary orders had never been something that he'd particularly enjoyed, yet it came hand in hand with the job. Every once in a while, he would be forced to get his hands dirty, only hoping that the mud wouldn't stick to them and come back to haunt him in the future.

Running the Department was certainly made a lot easier when he had men of the stature of Horatio Caine to rely on. He'd always had a soft spot for the man, they seemed to share the same moral code and sense of ethics. The lieutenant had built a crime lab that rivalled any in the country in terms of accuracy and success. He respected the man and trusted his judgement when it came to running the facility.

Why then, was the man sitting in front of him looking as if he were being escorted to his own execution? What had happened to him recently was common knowledge, Michael Martin wasn't that far removed from the Department scuttlebutt that he was unaware as to what people were saying about the poor man. Most of the chatter had been of the concerned variety, along with a large amount of relief that stoic and stable leader of the Crime Lab had returned to the facility that he had worked so tirelessly to build.

He wasn't naïve enough to believe that Horatio's ordeal hadn't affected him on a deeply emotional level, it was obvious to see that the men that had taken and tortured him had damaged his confidence not only as a man, but as police officer too. The man sitting in front of him seemed unsure of himself, as if he had resigned himself to the fact that his superior was about to deliver him some upsetting news.

The truth was that he didn't know how Horatio would react to what he had to say. He'd stood by the last couple of weeks, holding back on his desire to ask the man if he was alright dozens of times. The phone call he'd received this afternoon had certainly come out of the blue and he'd been reluctant to even mention it to Horatio for fear of setting him back further.

But he had far too much respect for Horatio than to keep something so important from him, the words that he was about to say would likely make or break the man in front of him. There would be no point in prolonging his agony, he needed to steel himself for what was to come.

It was with baited breath that he pulled the manila file from the top drawer of his desk, placing it before him as if it would act as some kind of barrier between him and the man sat opposite, as if the flimsy cardboard would protect him from the reaction he might get from the person he'd grown to have a deep admiration for.

"Ok, Horatio," he began, trying to keep an air of professionalism about him while hiding the uncertainty from his voice. "Let's get down to business."


	86. Chapter 86

"I've read all of the reports in regards to the incident today. As you know, it's procedure to carry out an investigation into these types of situation," the Chief began as he opened the file in front of him.

"Indeed, sir."

"It's fortunate that you were at Dr Pearce's office at the time. The situation might have become much worse if you hadn't." Horatio said nothing and had not moved apart from nodding his head at his superior's words. "Forgive me for being blunt, but the statement you gave Detective Tripp is a little light on the pertinent details."

Horatio's head rose at that. "I'm not sure I follow, sir," he replied, acting as if he had no idea as to what the Chief was getting at.

"Well, Tripp's report indicates that he felt as if something were not quite right with the whole situation. There was, as he would say, something hinky about it."

"He said that?"

"Not in so many words, Horatio. I'm reading between the lines a little here. I've known Frank Tripp for a long time, I know when he's holding out on me." The Chief smiled, it did nothing to ease Horatio's growing sense of dread. He had a fair idea where this conversation was headed. "I've also read your statement, Lieutenant. I notice that you were careful not to give more than the required basics...as far as details go."

Horatio lowered his gaze to the floor once again, wanting nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. It was coming, it was only a matter of time before the Chief held out his hand and demanded that he hand his badge back.

"Would you like to know what I think, Horatio?" The Chief asked, his voice level. If there were any anger or bitterness in his tone then he did well to hide it.

He would have loved to have said no, to take his leave and return to the Lab, bury himself away in some far corner until this whole sorry saga had passed him by. He knew the Chief too well, the man would have his say, whether he wanted to hear it or not.

Taking his subordinate's silence as an answer, Chief Martin began. "I think Dr Pearce was being a little dishonest in regards to the reason that you were present at his office at the time of the hostage situation." He paused, waiting for the other man to correct him, but it never came. "I think Mr Donato followed you there, planning to confront you. I'm going to ask you a question, Horatio, and I want you to be honest with me...Would I be right in assuming that the reason you went to the doctor's place of work was to seek out his professional services?"

The air left his body in a rush as the blood drained from his face. He'd tried to hide it, but the Chief had worked it out for himself. This was the end, there would be no fooling himself now. The Chief would place him on administrative leave pending psychiatric evaluation, he'd be tied up in so much bureaucratic red tape that he'd never find his way back out again.

Was this what it felt like to have your whole world come crashing down around you? Hadn't what those monsters had done to him been enough? He'd had nightmares about this scenario before, yet somehow it was so much more frightening when they actually came to life. This would be one dream that he would never wake from. This was his reality. It was over, everything he had worked so hard to achieve would be snatched away from him in an instant.

"Please, Chief," he began, not sure of what it was that he would say next.

The Chief could see by the other man's reaction that his assessment of the situation had been correct, it still didn't change the fact that he needed to hear the words that would confirm his thoughts. "I need you to tell me, Horatio. Were you seeing Dr Pearce in a professional capacity?"

He wanted to lie, to run away from the truth. Anything to stop his world caving in any more than it already had. But this turn of events had been inevitable, hadn't it? He knew that there would be no way to keep his deficits from his colleagues permanently. Perhaps it was better this way, perhaps it was easier because he'd not yet had a chance to truly re-immerse himself back into the Lab and the job that he'd once found so easy to do.

Perhaps he would later look back on this moment and laugh, revel in the fact that his had likely been the shortest comeback in the history of the MDPD. Perhaps his fate would be used as a cautionary tale for others as to what happened when you attempted to outrun your past. He'd be remembered as the man that cracked under the strain, the man who could no longer cope with the encroaching darkness of his own shadow. A man who had thought himself strong enough to deal with things on his own, a man who had been proven wrong in the most devastating of ways.

He might be remembered for many things, but he was damn sure that he would not be remembered as a coward and a liar. He would tell the Chief the truth, after months of denying it to himself, he would face his demons head-on. The outcome would not change, but at least he would be able to leave the Department with his head held high, he would leave as a man who had the courage of his convictions and the strength to admit to his own weaknesses.

_Just do it, _he told himself as he raised his head, sat straighter in his chair and puffed his chest out. If he was bowing out, he was going to do so with grace and dignity. He would go out fighting, not as some snivelling and weak-willed pretender who would beg for mercy. "You're correct, Chief," he replied after a long silence, a silence that had stretched between the two men for what seemed like an eternity.

Chief Martin couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face as the Lieutenant finally admitted to something that he'd known himself all along. It was one of the most admirable traits of the man, his inner strength and his nobility would see him through this, he was a man that had more courage than most. How many other officers would have sat in front of him and lied their way out of the situation? It was something that set Horatio Caine apart from the rest of the people under his command, his unswerving honesty and sense of duty. He would remain true to the oath he took when he became a police officer, placing the good of the Department above his own needs.

He saw the smile on his superior's face and couldn't understand why the man would react in such a way. That had been friends and colleagues for a number of years, hadn't they? A part of him had hoped that Chief would take no pleasure in being the one to end his career, yet he sat before him and seemed happy about it.

"How long have you been seeing the doctor?"

The question seemed to shock him out of his confusion, he shook his head slightly before answering. "The last week or so. It was clear that I…" he frowned as he tried to find the right words, "I still had some issues to resolve," he finished lamely.

"And these sessions, have they been helping?"

What was the point in asking him about it? It wouldn't make the end result any different. "Chief, I appreciate your concern about my wellbeing, but I'd rather get to the matter at hand." It was with a heavy heart that Horatio stood up and unclipped his badge and ID, followed closely by his backup weapon, the small pistol that he kept in an ankle holster on his right leg.

He held the items out in front of him, waiting for his superior to take them from him. The moment seemed to stretch as Chief Martin continued to look at him with that amused expression on his face. He frowned deeply in confusion, why hadn't he taken his badge and gun?

"I think you might need them, Horatio," the Chief remarked as he closed the folder in front of him and placed it back in his desk drawer.

Horatio had always thought of himself as somewhat of an intelligent man, but the Chief's reaction had caught him completely off-guard. He could not, for the life of him, work out why the man would not take his police-issued belongings from him. "Am I missing something here, sir?"

Chief Martin cleared his throat as he once more leaned his elbows on his desk, "I don't want your badge or gun, Lieutenant. I think they might be of more use to you when you're out in the field."

There weren't many times that Horatio was genuinely lost for words, but this had to be one of those rare occasions. "You're not putting me on leave?" he asked, puzzled by the strange twist in proceedings.

"Why would I do that?" The Chief replied, knowing full well what his subordinate meant. Horatio was expecting him to place him on administrative leave pending further psychiatric evaluations, but what would be the point? He'd been keeping a close eye on the comings and goings of the Lieutenant and his department, he'd seen the progress the man had already made since his return. Whatever his issues were, he was dealing with them, and he'd already proved himself capable enough of handling himself in the field with the events of today. To force Horatio out again would not do him or his team any good. He'd never had a reason to doubt the Lieutenant before and it stood to reason that now should not be any different.

But he was planning to place Horatio on an enforced leave, just not the type he'd been expecting. "I don't want to see you here for at least the next week, Horatio."

Ok, now he was _really _confused. First the Chief had told him that he wouldn't suspend him, was he now saying that he'd changed his mind already? He ran a hand through his hair, not entirely sure whether this was real or he was in fact trapped in some kind of delusion. He'd had weird dreams before, but nothing quite as bizarre as this. "I'm sorry, sir. I don't follow."

He didn't miss the pained expression that crossed the Chief's face as he watched him pull another folder from his desk drawer. "I took a call from the Chief of Police in New York this afternoon," his superior paused as he gauged his reaction. "They've requested your presence there the day after tomorrow. They're footing the bill, it's an all expenses trip back home, Horatio."

Talking about the past was one thing, but going back and revisiting it? He wasn't sure if it was something that he'd ever want to do. He'd left New York under a dark cloud of shame, what good could possibly come from going back there? What would it achieve except to open up old wounds that should have been left to heal on their own?

He could feel his heart thumping as his pulse throbbed painfully in his ears. Perhaps he'd gotten off lightly with the physical punishment the Malucci's had meted out on him. At least they'd come to Miami to do it, he could pretend that his time in New York had never existed, as long as it meant that he never had to go back to the place that held so many memories for him.

It seemed to take him an age to finally find his voice. He swallowed thickly as he willed the words not to stick in his throat as he spoke. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Chief."

He heard his superior sigh and felt his own heart sink, knowing instinctively what that meant. "When I said _requested..._I meant more along the lines of demanded. They were quite clear in their tone I'm afraid. They expect you to be at One Police Plaza in two days' time."

Swallowing again, he nodded his head. "I understand, sir."

"If I could offer a little advice?" the Chief suggested, satisfied when Horatio nodded his head once more. "Take someone with you, I think you're going to need it."

He considered the other man's words, perhaps it would be prudent to take someone with him, he doubted he'd be able to face it on his own. As far as conversations went, this had perhaps been one of the most unexpected that he'd ever experienced. He'd entered the Chief's office resigned to the fact that his career would be over. He still couldn't understand, for the life of him, why he hadn't been stripped of his position within both the Lab and the Department. And now here he was being forced to return to a city that he'd hoped he'd never have to see again.

He rose from the chair slowly, not entirely sure that his shaky legs would hold his weight. It had been such a very long day, all he wanted to do was return home and find some peace and quiet. Some dark little corner where he could regain his equilibrium and try to make the events of the day make some kind of sense. "Is that all, Chief?" he asked, when what he really wanted to ask was if the man had any other surprises up his sleeve with which to blindside him with.

"You look like you've had a hell of a day, my friend." The Chief smirked as he saw the look on Horatio's face. "Sorry to be blunt about it, but you look beat."

"I am, sir. I'd rather like to just go home."

"No doubt, Horatio. There was just one more thing before you leave," the Chief called out as Horatio reached the door, he paused just before he made contact with the handle and looked back over his shoulder. "I've considered your request in regards to the transfer, I can't see why it would be a problem. Give it a few days and the paperwork should be in place."

"Thank you, I appreciate that." Horatio gave his superior a tight smile and nod of the head. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"How did you know I was seeing a therapist?"

Michael Martin found himself being pinned by one of those legendary 'Horatio' stares. He suddenly had a new-found sympathy for those criminals who were subjected to the look on a regular basis. Had he been a lesser man, and had not known the Lieutenant as well as he did, he might well have felt a little intimidated. "They didn't make me Chief just for my good looks and dazzling personality, you know," he drawled as he saw the feint flicker of a smile cross the other man's face. "I was a detective once too, just because I'm stuck up here in this office it doesn't mean that I don't know what's going on around me. I only wish that you could have been honest with me about it."

He could hear the genuine tinge of regret in the man's voice as he spoke. "I think that might have something to do with the fact that I haven't been all that honest with myself recently. I'm working on it though."

"Glad to hear it. Take care up in New York and come back safe."

There was a genuine smile on the Chief's face as he spoke. "I'll try, sir."

"Do more than try. Don't force me to make it an order." There was a sense of warmth mixed with the gentle and well-meaning warning.

"Understood, sir."

* * *

She sat in the darkened office, waiting for him. She hadn't liked the look on his face or the sound of his voice when he'd left almost an hour ago. Why wasn't he happy that he'd proven himself capable in the field? Why did he look for all the world as if his life was coming to an end?

His behaviour today had been enough to start alarm bells ringing in her mind, there was something about the way that he carried himself that just didn't sit right with her. She hadn't wanted to ask him when she found him sitting in this very office earlier on, he'd already had far too much on his plate to deal with as it was. Experience had taught her that his mind would be replaying the events of the day, over and over in his head. He would search within himself and question his own actions, trying to ascertain if he could have done things differently.

She knew that Horatio never took the life of another easily, it was perhaps the part of the job that he found hardest to deal with. Each death by his hands would weigh heavily on his conscience and he would question his own motives, trying to convince himself that there could have been another way that did not result in the loss of a life. He would likely head to the Chief's office under the assumption that his actions would be called into question. It was as if he had almost wanted the Chief to force him out of the Department, not wanting to accept the truth of his situation.

Overloading him by voicing her own fears would do him no good, and so she sat quietly in the office, giving him her most encouraging smile as he left the room, hoping that her worst case scenario did not become a reality.

At least the endless cycle of paperwork had kept her busy while she waited, she heard the soft knocking on the office door and knew it was him. At was as if his knock sounded just as defeated as the rest of him. The door opened slowly, she could tell by the slump of his shoulders that the news wasn't good.

"Are you ok?" she asked quietly, catching the slightest movement of his head as he nodded imperceptibly. He let out a weary sigh as he dropped to the couch and ran a hand over his face. "What happened?"

He gave her a small smile as she sat next to him, he could already feel her nervous tension as she looked at him. "The Chief knows…about Jeff."

She couldn't help the small gasp that escaped from her throat. "What did he say?"

She could hear the small humourless laugh that escaped his lips. "He said he'd known all along. I thought for all the world that he'd suspend me."

"But he didn't?"

"No, he didn't." The way he answered made it sound as if he could hardly believe it himself either. "He has put me on leave for at least the next week though."

"Why would he do that?"

She could hear the deep and wearied sigh that he let out, he reached out for her hand and gave it a quick squeeze before releasing it. "I've been summoned by the NYPD. I have to be at headquarters in a couple of days."

"Did they say what it was about?"

"No, but I can guess," he answered after a beat or two before rising to his feet and straightening himself out. "It's been a long day, Calleigh. I'm going to head home, if that's ok?"

She stood up and matched his posture, she could still see the exhaustion in those brilliantly blue eyes of his. "You want me to come with you?"

He shook his head. "I need the drive home to clear my head. You do what you need to here. We'll talk properly when you get back, ok?"

She wrapped him in a tight hug before placing a tender kiss on his cheek. "Ok. I'll be home before you know it."

He gave her another of his sad smiles as he tilted his head to the right. Paying no heed to protocol, he leaned forwards and kissed her soundly, holding her face gently in his hands. She could still feel the tingle of his lips on hers as he left the room and made his way home.

He willed himself not to look back as he walked further away from his lover. There was no way that he could look at her without wanting to confess the truth. Perhaps it was cowardly, but creating the momentary distance between them would allow him time to formulate exactly what it was that he would say to her.

There would be no way of saying it that wouldn't cause her heartache, and it pained him to know that he would be the cause of her misery. But he had to do this, he had no choice. He knew that, in order to truly love her, that he would have to hurt her. He could only hope that in time she would understand his reasons why, the reasons why he'd broken her heart.


	87. Chapter 87

He'd stopped by the locker room on his way to his car, hoping that he would be able to catch Ryan before he left for the day. It seemed as if the fates were smiling on him as he found his young colleague reaching into his locker for his jacket.

"Mr Wolfe," he said after a beat or two, standing sideways in the doorway, fiddling with his ever-present sunglasses.

"Hey, H. You calling it a night?"

"I am. But first I wanted to let you know that I spoke to the Chief earlier…..about your suggestion."

Ryan looked at him hopefully. "What did he say?"

He looked up briefly at the younger man. "The paperwork should be in place in a few days, everything else is just a formality."

Ryan had wanted to punch the air with happiness, relief washed over him that perhaps now things would change. Such obvious displays of emotion would not sit well with his reserved superior, and so he settled for shaking Horatio's hand instead. "You won't regret this, H. I promise you."

He could see the sincerity and genuine appreciation in the expression on Ryan's face, he knew that the man before him would not let him down. Ryan had travelled a long and difficult road over the last few years, and it was only now that the he was coming into his own as a police officer and a man.

Perhaps the two of them had been brought closer together by their chequered pasts, both men understood what it felt like to be pushed aside and treated as if they were no better than the criminals that they had sworn to protect this great city from. Both of them had made poor choices and had been made to pay for them repeatedly. Yet they were both still here, still standing, after everything the world had thrown at them, they still held firm. Battered and bruised, but strong enough to weather the storm.

Ryan's poor choices could have led him down a dangerous path, yet he chose to acknowledge his own frailties and work to rectify them instead. Ryan had learned from the mistakes of his past and had used them to become a better man. The young CSI's request had been something that he had not been expecting, and it had initially given him cause for great concern. Yet the longer he thought about it, the more sense it made.

Life was about second chances, Lord knows that he'd had enough of his own. It gave him heart to know that friendship and loyalty meant more to Ryan than he had ever given him credit for. There were not many men who would have risked their own necks in order to help another, yet he had, and he had done so willingly.

A small part of him hoped that he had influenced the fine man that Ryan had become, common sense dictated that the man had got there by himself, but had his guidance helped to show the right path to the wayward young officer? Had he really made a difference?

When Ryan had asked him for that favour, he knew that he could not deny him, it was not his place to stand in the way of forgiveness for others. Perhaps that was what it came down to at the end of the day, accepting the past for what it was, healing old wounds and finally moving on with the hope that there was a better day out there waiting for them….somewhere.

He felt Ryan's firm grip as he shook hands with him, it was then that he realised how proud he was to know him. Showering his team with unbridled praise had never really been his style, and it would serve neither man well should he be gushing in his admiration of him now. Instead, he settled for using his free hand to pat Ryan's shoulder. "I have complete faith in you, Ryan. You're a good man and a fine police officer. Never let anyone tell you different."

He gave Ryan a tight nod before leaving his gobsmacked colleague behind in the locker room, safe in the knowledge that he had at least given some small semblance of hope to someone today. The warm feeling inside of him was soon doused by thoughts of what he was about to do. Would she ever come to understand why he had done it? Would she understand that he felt as if he'd had no choice?

It didn't really matter either way, but he would live in hope that one day she would accept his reasons and love him despite of it.

He'd rather hoped that the drive home would ease his mind a little, yet he was left sadly disappointed that it hadn't. He'd been distracted at best as he drove, with each mile that brought him closer to Calleigh's house, the more he felt a part of his heart being chipped away at. He'd reached his destination all too soon as he pulled into her driveway, wishing that there was any other way.

It wasn't to be, this was how it was meant to be. How it had to be.

The house was darkened as he turned his key in the door, knowing that this would be the final time that he would be able to return here and truly call it home. As before, he found a sense of solitude and calm in the darkness as he made his way through the hallway and began to ascend the stairs.

He felt as if he had aged a lifetime as he pulled his weary body up further, each and every step he took was another one further away from the woman he loved, the torturous journey almost more than his shattered soul could bear. His footsteps sounded far too loud as he continued to trudge his way to the bedroom, the bedroom that he had spent so many nights in. The bedroom that he would now no longer have a place in.

He flicked on the light and felt the shadows fall over his frame once more. In the shade no one could see the cracks in him, yet in the light he found himself constantly shrouded by a deep cloud of darkness, one that people could see if they cared to look close enough. He needed the dark, it had always been his most stalwart of friends, protecting him from the harsh and unforgiving glare of the day, keeping him to the shadows where he and his damaged soul belonged.

One glance around the room and he could see small examples of his influence, the reminders that he and Calleigh would share, despite their relationship being so brief. This was a room that held so many conflicting memories and emotions for him, this room had seen him at his worst, and yet still it felt like the safest place in the world to him.

People would question why he felt as though he had to leave the one place he felt safe, the one place where he truly felt accepted. The truth would not be easy to explain, and he doubted that he fully understood the reasons himself. Yet he knew that he had to do this, that this was the right course of action to take. He couldn't let his lingering doubts dissuade him from what it was that he had to do. After all she had done for him, he owed it to her to do this, even if she could not understand the reasons why.

He found the holdall in the far corner of the wardrobe, placing it on the bed with a sigh, he began to fill it with his belongings. It was with great sadness that he pulled his clothes from the drawers and packed them neatly away. He'd been here before, he'd done this before. Except back in New York he'd never been given the chance to collect his things, he'd fled the city with only the clothes on his back and the few paltry photographs that he'd managed to save. Somehow this was worse, packing his things and removing every last memory from the room that would signal that he'd ever been there in the first place.

Bag packed, he sat down heavily on his side of the bed, a bed that would no longer be one that he could call his. His constant shuffling around the room had alerted Moses to his presence, the sleek black cat crept into the room almost meekly as he regarded his master with quizzical eyes. "Hey, boy," he called out to the cat, holding his hand out so that Moses could arch his back and run it over his palm.

It was as if the cat could sense something was wrong as it leaped onto the bed and into Horatio's lap, settling himself down as if his paltry weight alone could stop the man he loved from leaving the room. "I'm going to miss you, you know that?" he said to the cat, shaking his head and feeling foolish for talking to an animal that was hardly likely to talk back. "I need you to look after Calleigh for me. Can you do that?"

Moses mewed quietly, the sadness in the noise made him feel worse than he already did. Would either of them ever forgive him for what he was about to do?

The time to think about the repercussions would come later, right now he needed to act. Lifting the cat in his arms, he placed a gentle kiss on its head and set him down on the bed. He picked up the holdall and made his way to the door, giving the room one last look before he left it for good.

The descent of the stairs was even worse than he'd imagined, with every footstep he could feel another nail being hammered into his heart, closing the door further on the happiness and love that Calleigh was so clearly offering him. He was bound by his actions now, as he felt the shackles placed around his soul being tightened with every tormented step he took. It seemed as if he were descending back down into the same darkness that had shrouded him for such a long time now, but still he couldn't stop. He had to go, there was no other way.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, yet his actions recently had done just that. It was with a heavy heart that he realised that he would only cause her more pain by staying. She was too close to him to see that she was enabling his current behaviour, allowing him to get away with his transgressions, unwilling to look past her love for him to realise that he had been partly to blame for the things that he had done. It was not fair on her that he continue to do so, it was better this way, he could no longer allow her to love half a man. She deserved more than that, she deserved a man who was worthy of her love, the closer he looked at himself, the more he found himself wanting in that respect.

He loved her, of that he was sure. Yet he wasn't sure who it was that she was in love with, he was no longer Horatio, just as he was no longer John. He needed time and space to find out who he really was, he knew that he would not be able to do that when she was so close at hand. Her love for him would blind her to his failings, he still had so much work to do in order to repair his fractured soul, and he knew that he would not be able to do so with the temptation of running and hiding so strong.

Had it really been all that long ago that he had prided himself on his strength? The steely determination of both John Kelly and Horatio Caine seemed like a lifetime ago, had the Malucci's taken that away from him, had they changed the man he was into something that he no longer recognised?

He felt safe with Calleigh, as if nothing could ever hurt him when he held her in his arms, he could show his weaknesses and vulnerabilities to her and not feel ashamed for doing so. But staying safe would not help him rebuild his life, he needed to find the will and the fight to do so for himself. If he stayed, he knew that his resolve would weaken, he would forever want to run away from the horrors of his past and knew that he'd have a willing ally in her.

Would she ever understand that she was his reason for leaving? He loved her with all his heart, yet his was a heart that was damaged from one too many blows. He wanted her to love him as an equal, someone with who he was on a level footing with. He was not a man who wanted to be needy, yet that was exactly what he felt each time he stumbled in front of her. He didn't want to just feel safe, he wanted to feel vibrant and free. He wanted to be a man who was strong and independent, a man that Calleigh could rely on. A man who was her equal.

He wanted all of these things and more, yet he knew that he would not find them in her loving embrace alone. He would be forced to make a perilous journey into the unknown, a journey of self-discovery, a journey that he had to make alone. It wasn't that he didn't want her there by his side, he wanted nothing more, but he would never complete the journey if she were there. When he found his faith and courage wavering, she would hold out her hands and pull him close, using her own body to keep him safe from harm. The temptation to give in when the road became rocky would be too much to resist. This was a journey that he had to make alone. There was simply no other choice.

And so he sat in the darkness, bags packed, waiting for the woman he loved to return.

He heard her Hummer pull up a short time later as the headlights illuminated the darkness of the lower level of the house. He'd deliberately left the lights off, not wanting Calleigh to see the pain written across his face as she walked through the door. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he sat and waited for her to enter.

She frowned as she turned her key in the door, noticing that all of the lights in the house were off. Panic seized her heart at first, before common sense kicked in and prevented her from running into the house all guns blazing. The day had been long and tiring for all of them, especially Horatio, she wouldn't have been surprised if he'd grabbed a quick shower and then headed straight for bed. She certainly couldn't blame him, she felt like doing exactly the same thing.

The door creaked open quietly as she flicked on the hallway light and was greeted by a sight she hadn't been expecting. Her eyes fell to the large holdall sitting on the floor before rising to find the man she loved sitting silently on the bottom step of the stairs, his hands clasped tightly together as his elbows rested on his knees.

"What's this?" she asked as walked towards him, stopping suddenly when he refused to look at her. "I thought you didn't need to leave for New York 'til tomorrow?"

"I don't," he replied quietly. His eyes still firmly glued to the floor.

"Then what's with the bag?"

He finally lifted his head and looked at her, pinning her with those soulful blue eyes of his. She could not deny the look of profound sadness in them as he stood and made his way towards her. She could tell by the look on his face that she would not like what he was about to say. "I'm leaving," he whispered as he placed his hands on her upper arms.

"For New York?"

He shook his head, gulping deeply before he spoke again. "I'm leaving here."

She could feel her world falling down around her, this was her worst nightmare come to life. After everything they had been through, why would he want to leave her? Why now?

"I don't understand. I thought you loved me," had she been a little less shell-shocked, she would have laughed at the needy way she spoke.

"I do, Sweetheart."

"Then why do you want to leave?"

He took a shuddering breath as he squeezed her arms lightly. "It's not that I want to…believe me, I don't…..But I have to, Calleigh…I have to go."

He refused to make eye contact with her, every attempt she made to connect with him resulted in him turning his head and looking the other way. "Just tell me why. What is it that I've done to push you away?"

She felt herself being pulled towards him as he embraced her fiercely, kissing the top of her head as he tried to convey just how much this was all his fault. "You haven't done anything. It's me…..I'm hurting you by staying here."

She pulled away and finally made eye contact with him. "No, you'll hurt me by leaving. I love you, Horatio…..I need you here. Isn't that enough?"

How could he put into words how he was feeling? How could he make her see that he needed time and space to be the man that she loved, the man that she deserved. "I love you…..never doubt that. But there are things I must do alone…..I want to be the man you deserve, Calleigh, not just some shell of the man you think I am."

"But I love the person you are now, even if you don't," she responded defiantly. This was the biggest fight of her life, she would throw everything and more at it to make sure that the man she loved stayed by her side.

"And that's the point. I don't know who it is that I am anymore. There are things I need to do….things that I must face alone. I'll never know who I am otherwise."

"So why can't you do that here?" she asked, anger was beginning to build inside of her. He was running away from her. Again.

"Because I love you too much, Calleigh. I need to find the strength to face these things on my own….I can't do that if I stay here."

His eyes pleaded with her to believe him, to have the faith in him to let him go. With each word that he spoke, he could see the devastation mirrored in her face. He was causing her this pain, he was hurting the woman he loved.

"How long?"

It wasn't a question that he could answer with any certainty. His journey could take days, months, maybe even years. Would she still wait for him? He wouldn't blame her if she didn't, it would be unfair of him to expect her to put her life on hold for him. "I don't know," he answered finally, feeling his voice crack with emotion. He pulled her to him again and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Would it make a difference if I told you that I don't want you to go?"

She could feel his head shaking and knew the answer before he spoke. There would be nothing she could say that would change his mind. Horatio Caine was a stubborn man if nothing else, once his mind was made up it would be next to impossible to sway him from the course of action that he had set for himself.

Breaking the embrace, he cupped her face softly and kissed her deeply, hoping to inject something, anything into her that would sustain her through the near future, knowing that she would feel abandoned and betrayed by his actions. He tried to convey just how much he loved and cared for her with that one lingering kiss, never wanting to break the intimate contact between them, knowing that perhaps this would be the last time he would ever be this close to her again.

He held her there for as long as he could, kissing her as if his life depended on it. He finally broke away as he leaned his forehead to hers and gasped for breath. He could see the tears that streaked their way down her face as she looked at him, her bottom lip trembling as she tried valiantly to keep her emotions in check. He had to go, knowing that if he stayed a minute longer that his resolve would weaken instantly and that he would stay by her side for all eternity, hiding from the truth that he still needed to confront.

With one last tender kiss on her forehead, he broke away from her almost roughly as he felt the tears prick at his own eyes. He pulled his arm away as she made a grab for it, before picking his bag up and striding to the door. He had to stay strong, there was no other choice, no matter how much her wailing broke his heart, he knew that he had to do this. That this was the only way.

He had to go, he had to go now. He couldn't bear to listen to her broken sobs as she pleaded with him not to leave. The tears fell freely from his own eyes as he reached for the handle and opened the door. He wanted so badly to turn around and take one final look at her, but he couldn't, he couldn't turn around without wanting to run back to the safe haven of her arms, to take away the pain that he had caused her.

It was now or never, he had to leave. He felt his bottom lip tremble as he crossed the threshold and stepped outside, stepping out into the great unknown, into a world that felt so harsh and daunting. Behind him stood safety and comfort, ahead was uncharted territory that he knew he had to discover for himself. His hand shook as he shut the door behind him, he let his head fall back as he heard her sob, falling back until it made contact with the thick wooden surface, his own tears dampening his face.

He couldn't leave, not without telling her, yet he didn't trust his voice to hold. A pained whisper was the most he could manage as he turned his head to the right, lifting up a hand and placing it on the door as he spoke. "I'm sorry," he sobbed, "Please…..forgive me."

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**A/N: And that's the end of book two of the When Two Worlds Collide series. I want to thank each and every person who has read, reviewed or PMed me their comments about this story. It's been an epic journey and one that I hope everyone has enjoyed. Please keep your eyes peeled for book three, coming soon...  
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